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scarletlizzard · 2 months

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Hummingbird

Pairing: wanda x reader (I don't think I used any pronouns in this? I could be wrong)

Tags: angst, fluff, alcohol (R has a bit of a drinking problem), R has powers

A/N: Hi anon 😊 Please forgive me for taking so long. I wrote this about 10 different ways before I could finally settle on one! I hope this is good enough and thank you thank you so much for the request 🩷🩷

Masterlist

As you sit in the pew in the middle of friends and other familiar faces, you smell the flowers that litter the alter, and listen to the quiet chatter as you feel a body sit next to you.

"Maximoff is getting married, huh?" Bucky asks, you remove your eyes from Wanda, who was standing at the alter, to your best friend.

"I guess so... finally," you say with a chuckle, looking down at your hands. You pick at the skin of your nails anxiously and think back to one of the first days you met the Maximoffs.

***

"Would you stop being so anti-social?" Natasha insists as she leans in the doorframe of your room. You remove your headphones with a pout on your face.

"I'm not being anti social, I'm just... here," you shrug and stand from your bed. She laughs and shakes her head, stepping inside.

"Ten minutes, or I'm dragging you down. If I have to be there, so do you," Natasha hits your shoulder playfully and rolls her eyes as you fake being hurt.

"Ten minutes!" She commands before heading back to the party.

With a sigh, you do as she says, changing into a dark pair of jeans and a plain white shirt. If you absolutely had to go, you would at least be comfortable. So ten minutes went by, and you found yourself, as always, at the bar in the large room filled with people. You recognized most of the people, the same ones who always show up to Tonys parties. As you sip your second drink though, the sight of the twins walking by catch your eyes.

You make eye contact with Wanda Maximoff, the witch who almost drove you to commit heinous crimes the day she put herself in your mind. She gives you a soft smile, and you have to look away because you want to hate her.

You don't want to feel a warmth spread in your chest as she looks at you with those gorgeous green eyes surrounded with dark makeup and those silver rings on her slender fingers and her long, smooth legs in that skirt and that beautiful smile and - fuck it.

"Maximoff," you say, suprising her and yourself as you had walked up to her with a drink still in hand. "How are you enjoying the life of an Avenger so far?" You ask and raise an eyebrow.

"Y/N!" She says with a small blush on her cheeks.

In the short time Wanda had been here, you were the person she wanted to get to know the most... you were also the one person who wouldn't give her a second look, at least not that she knew of. She couldn't believe you were standing here.

"I um, it's very different from what I'm used to," she says and smiles again. You might fall out right there if she does it again with the way your knees weaken.

"I bet it is," you sigh and take a sip of your drink. The two of you stand in silence for a moment. "It's kind of... distracting in here. Wanna go someplace and talk?" You ask. She looks up at you and nods.

You down the rest of your drink and sneak behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of whatever you could reach, which turned out to be tequila. Wanda giggled as you shrugged while reading the label on the bottle and hid it under your arm, telling her to follow you. You led her down a few hallways and up to a balcony, being far enough away that you could only hear a little bit of the muffled music.

"The stars are so bright tonight," you say as you sit on the edge, letting your feet dangle off of the side. Wanda follows suit and sits next to you, flattening her skirt. You take a sip from the bottle without a flinch, watching as she looks up at the sky.

"My brother and I used to try to count them when we were little," she laughs and takes the bottle as you hand it to her, sticking her tongue out and shivering after she takes a big sip.

"You would've been counting forever," you chuckle and feel your skin ignite as her shoulder touches yours.

"Thought we had forever," she says and looks to you. "Then on Sokovia when he got shot I-I thought he was gone." You furrow your brows, taking in her now saddened features.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. But hey, he's here, making shitty jokes and flirting with some girl from Shield," you try to joke, feeling that same warmth from earlier when a giggle leaves her lips.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize. I-" You interrupt her by holding up a hand, taking a big gulp from the bottle.

"Here's the thing. We've all done bad things, every single one of us," you nod in the direction of the party. "Including me... which you know obviously," you mumble and look away from her, thinking back to the feeling of her inside your head. "You do good, try to wipe it clean, you know? It's all we can do. Now what I'd really like is to finish the bottle and know all about you," you say with a smile and look to her again.

"You already know about me?" Wanda says and lifts her eyebrow as she takes another swig from the bottle. You shake your head.

"No, no. I want to know what makes you tick. Your favorite movies, shows, songs, your favorite thing to do on a rainy day. Why you wear so many rings," you laugh and point to the rings that adorn her fingers. She grins, and there goes that feeling again.

The two of you spend the entire night on that balcony, finishing the bottle and swapping stories about all your favorite things. There wasn't a cell in your body that could ever hate Wanda Maximoff.

Towards the end of the night, now early in the morning, in fit of laughter you lean too far over the balcony. Wanda gasps in fear as you fall forward.

"Y/N!" She gasps loudly, and you look to her scared reaction in suprise, looking around the two of you as if something had happened you were unaware of.

"What? What is it?" You ask as you stand still in the air, floating in front of her.

The hand that covered her mouth moved and revealed a drunken laugh that escaped her lips. She leans forward and punches your arm.

"I didn't know you could fly! I thought I'd have to jump off, and oh god," Wanda shakes her head and rubs her eyes. You give her a cheeky smile and continue to stand there mid-air effortlessly.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," you shrug drunkenly and put your hands in your pockets.

"Oh yeah, like what, hummingbird ?" Wanda jokes, giving you the nickname before she watches you step through the air was if you were walking.

You stood directly in front of her now, face almost where hers was. "I happen to be a fantastic kisser," you say with a chuckle, your heart enjoying the smile on her lips and the blush on her cheeks.

"Is that so?" She questions, her tongue wetting her lips. You nod and lean in.

"I mean, you're more than welcome to prove me wrong..." You whisper, lips hovering over hers. When you look in her green eyes for any signal to stop or uneasiness, you find none. Her eyes flutter closed, and her breath hitches as you lean in and connect your lips.

Wandas hands move to wrap around your neck, her fingers tangling with the strands behind you while yours moved to her hips. It's a soft kiss at first with shy lips, but soon turns into a sloppy drunken kiss with not so shy tongue. She can taste the tequila on your tongue, with a hint of lime from your drink earlier. Wanda sighs into the kiss as the wind blows her hair and squints her closed eyes tighter as a bright light suddenly shines between the two of you.

You frown as you feel her lips disconnect from yours, and when you open your eyes, you see her emerald eyes widen, a golden tint highlighting her features in the darkness.

"Uh, Y/N? Do you usually um... glow?" Wanda asks, and it's your turn to blush. In the kiss, you had gotten lost in Wanda. The way her soft lips tasted against yours, the way her fingertips brushed the nape of your neck. You had forgotten to control yourself.

You realized you were holding onto Wanda, now high above the balcony, while a golden white light radiates off of you.

"Oh god, I-I'm sorry," you laugh and take her back down, landing gently back onto the balcony while no longer glowing. Wanda shook her head, nothing but amazed with you.

"No, that was.. that was perfect," she whispers and reaches up to cup your cheek. In your drunken state (you didn't know from what more the tequila or Wandas lips), she kisses you again, and you can't help the light that shines off of you.

After that night on the balcony, the two of you grew closer over time. You'd stay up late doing anything and everything to make her laugh. Wanda would sneak in your room and kiss you randomly in the middle of the night just to see if you'd let your guard down and shine for her. You always did.

"So what's going on with you and Maximoff?" Bucky asked one day during a training session. You punch the pad he was holding up and shrug.

"What do you mean?" You ask back casually and try to ignore the heat that rises on your cheeks.

"Right, right. So that wasn't you leaving her room this morning," he laughs and shakes his head, groaning as you punch the pad hard near his stomach while he is distracted.

You look over through the glass wall and see Wanda talking to Vision again. "I don't know, Buck. I really like her," you sigh and watch as she laughs. You turn back to your best friend.

"Then you need to tell her, before someone else does," he nods to the direction of Wanda and Vision, knowing what he meant.

You weren't the only one growing closer to Wanda, vying for her undivided attention. Vision had been there too, and it seemed like the pair were talking more and more. Though as far as you knew, she was only kissing you, and the smile on her face wasn't the same grin she always gave you. You had nothing to worry about. She would always pick you... at least that's what you thought.

The time came when you finally wanted to tell Wanda about your feelings, that you wanted more than stolen kisses in the moonlight. You approach her room, mumbling the words you had been practicing all night.

"It's fine, you're fine," you tell yourself. "Tell her how you feel, ask her on a date. She'll say, 'Of course, hummingbird'... you're fine," you continue to convince yourself.

You take a deep breath and see the door to her room cracked open. With a shaky hand, you go to knock, but pause when you hear two voices speaking. Curiosity getting the best of you, you lean closer to listen.

"Wanda... I know you feel it, too. We're connected somehow, in here," Vision says in a soft voice.

"I feel it too, all the time," she replies, and you can hear the smile on her face.

"So we can give this a try then? Us?" He asks her. Wanda is silent for a moment, and you feel your stomach rise into your throat, your heart beating out of your chest. She wouldn't. There was no way.

Don't say yes.

"Yes. I would love to," she says.

"And what about Y/N?" He asks her, tone clearly annoyed.

"We were just... having fun," she sighs, and you feel your heart break. You don't stay a second longer.

Wandas head turns to the door, almost sure in the corner of her eyes she sees a flash of light, but when she gets up to look in the hall, it's empty. You had retreated to the safety of your room and a bottle of whatever your hand touched first.

After that night, you avoid Wanda for as long as you can. Finding excuses to leave the room every time she enters, taking on extra missions with Natasha across seas, extra training sessions with Pietro, and you put in more time at the gym with Bucky. He didn't ask why your punches were almost knocking him down, but when he saw Vision holding Wandas hand, he knew why the gym was suddenly a golden hue.

Another night, another party, another drink.

The room was filled with familiar faces and similar music, another drink in your hand but a frown on your face as you glared at Visions hand on Wandas lower back. Great.

"Guess whose got another date?"

"Hmm, is it someone who can't take a punch?" You ask and sip your drink, turning in your chair to look at Pietro.

"Ha, ha. Very funny," he fake laughs and shakes his head. "You know some of us are lovers, not fighters," he laughs for real this time, and so do you.

"Well, when we're done training, we'll see where you stand. Things are going well with her, huh?" You ask him, nodding to the girl from Shield he had somehow won over with his cheesy jokes.

"Yeah, great, actually..." He turns to smile at her, giving her a small wave before turning back to you. "Hey, I bet she knows some more hot spies. Wanna go on a double date?" Pietro jokes and watches you sigh, eyeing the brunette and the synthazoid.

"Why not? Might as well," you slur your words a little and finish your drink, leaning over the bar to grab a bottle. "See you in the morning?"

"Yeah, see you then," he says and gives you a sad smile.

The campus was quiet now. Everyone had long gone to bed, and you decided what better company than the stars and a now almost empty bottle of vodka. Perks of being super, you could drink as much as you wanted while getting as drunk as you wanted, with no bad mornings after or alcohol poisonings.

You hear the sound of a door opening and closing, and you sigh, knowing it could only be one person.

Wandas body sits next to yours at the edge, shoulder to shoulder, feet dangling high above the ground. You don't say anything, because really, what did you have to say anymore?

"What's going on, Hummingbird? Pretty late for a flight," she tries to joke, eyeing the bottle that was in your hands.

"Nothing wrong with a little fresh air," you shrug and take a large swig from the bottle, subtly moving your shoulder away from hers. Wanda frowns at the feeling.

"You've been avoiding me... Wanna tell me why?" She asks in a soft voice. You let out a loud laugh, to which she furrows her brows in confusion.

"I'm sorry, it's just so fucking obvious isn't it?" You slur and jump off the balcony, pacing in the air in front of Wanda. It's not your actions that make her flinch, seeing you walk in the air was something she was accustomed to by now, it was the tone in your voice. You had never spoken to her like that before.

"Obviously not if I'm asking you," Wanda speaks, continuing her best to keep her tone soft with you. You stop in the air and look at her with red and glassy eyes.

"Obviously not," you repeat and watch as she gives you a sad look. Her fingers twirl the rings on her fingers anxiously.

"Y/N..."

"It wasn't just fun to me, Wanda," you interrupted her, watching her lips part in suprise. "It wasn't just some little crush, I wasn't just some second choice when you weren't getting enough attention from him. I thought we - " You stop yourself and look away from her, running a shaky hand through your hair. "I loved you."

Wanda was happy with Vision. She felt a connection to him that she couldn't understand... But when you spoke those words, she felt her world shatter right there.

"Loved?" She asks.

"Past tense," you mumble and turn your back to her, not wanting her to see the few tears that roll down your cheeks.

"It wasn't just fun I-"

"You said that to him, I heard you. Don't lie to me!" You slur again, this time raising your voice and feeling your body heat up.

"I'm not lying to you! It wasn't just fun for me, it was..." She sighs and wipes her eyes. "Y/N, you mean everything to me. But with him, I don't know how to explain it. I can't explain it..." Wanda lets her tears fall as she watches you shine brighter, hating the fact it wasn't out of joy. Hating the fact that you probably hated her.

"You can't say that I mean that much to you and still be with him." You finish the bottle and toss it casually onto the balcony away from her. It cracks in half against the wall, then shatters on the ground.

"Look, hummingbird... you're drunk. Let's talk about this in the morning when you're coherent. Just come inside with me, please? I know it's selfish, but I-I can't lose you," Wanda looks at your back with pleading eyes, extending her hand out to touch you.

"You already have. The day you chose him," you cry with a sniffle and finally turn to face her, seeing her sad, teary eyes shine in your golden brightness. You don't give her the chance to say anything else. Instead, you fly off, going as far away as possible.

***

"Suprised you came back for this," Bucky says and nudges your shoulder. Your hands nervously run over the creases in your pants.

"Well, I couldn't really miss this, could I?" You sigh and look up again, only this time you see Wanda is already looking at you. Her green eyes were wide with suprise, and you could make out a smile on her lips. You balled your fists up, willing yourself to control your powers and stay calm.

"No, I don't think any of us expected Pietro out of all people to get married before half of us," he laughs quietly. "It's good you're here, Y/N."

Your eyes move to Pietro, who nervously talks to Wanda. Her hands were fixing his bowtie and whispering what you assumed calming words to him. As the music started, she turned him around, eyes moving to you as the crowd stood.

As his bride walked down the aisle, your eyes stayed glued to Wanda. Even after all this time, she was still stunning, taking your breath away as she stood next to her brother. Of course, she was his best man.

Throughout the ceremony, Wanda would look to you occasionally, checking to make sure you hadn't flown away from her again. Each time you made eye contact, you gave her a reassuring smile, letting her know you wouldn't be going away this time.

At the reception, Wanda sat at a table, drinking a glass of champagne and watching her brother slow dance with her newly appointed sister in law. A body suddenly blocks her view, and when she looks up to see your face, her heart stops.

"May I have this dance?" You ask, extending your hand out to her. She blushes, and you're reminded again that you would literally do anything for her.

Wanda sets her glass down and reaches her hand out to take yours, just as soft as she remembered. You led her to the dance floor and rested your hands on her hips, letting her arms rest on your shoulders while her hands were entwined behind your neck.

"I like the red," you utter quietly, eyeing her soft auburn curls. She chuckles as the two of you begin to sway, the tension slightly awkward between the two of you.

"I dyed it a while ago.." Wanda shrugs casually.

"It's been a while since I've seen you," you add. She hums in response, looking into your clear eyes.

"I expected to find you at the bar..." She half jokes.

"I uh, I stopped drinking," you reply with a smile, to which she gives you a proud smile back and nods.

"That's fantastic, hummingbird," Wanda whispers and scrunches her nose. Your heart swells at the nickname you hadn't heard in too long.

"Listen, Wanda. I've done a lot of thinking, a lot of trying to better myself, my emotions. I'm sorry I didn't just... talk to you. I'm happy that you're happy," you say with a smile, and she knows you mean what you say by the way it reaches your eyes. "I don't want to miss out on being a part of your life... as long as he treats you well," you say jokingly at the end to ease the heaviness of your words, and you spin her slowly around.

She returns to her previous position with a grin and pulls you closer, taking in your words as you both sway to the song. Wanda had missed this, missed you more than anything else in the world. Being in your arms again, she felt happier than she had in a long time.

"You have nothing to apologize for... I'm sorry things happened the way they did. I should've talked to you too," Wanda says gently. "We aren't together, you know?"

"Oh?" You say, trying to hide the excitement in your stomach, but Wanda can see it in your eyes.

"Yeah," she giggles at your reaction. "Turns out we're connected through the mind stone... but that was about it. He didn't know what made me tick. Didn't care to know my favorite show or what I liked to do or a rainy day." Her tone is playful as she looks up to you, smile still bright on her lips.

"Dick Van Dyke, watching the rain drops race down the window. Even though you pick the losing drop every time," you answer and smile back. She rolls her eyes jokingly at the last part, but Wanda can't deny the way her heart sped in her chest that you still remembered.

"I meant what I said that day... you mean everything to me, Y/N. You still do," her tone is serious, and you nod as you gaze into her eyes.

"I lied to you that day..." You whisper, watching her smile begin to fade. "I've never stopped loving you."

You lean down, face close to hers as your heart beats on your ribs like a butterfly trapped in a cage. Her eyes search yours as if she had been waiting for you to say those words, as if you were going to fly away right there.

"Are you going to glow if I kiss you?" Wanda mumbles the question, her lips ghosting over yours as she speaks.

"Probably..." You answer honestly.

"Good," she smiles and closes her eyes, feeling the warmth on her skin from the light that you radiated as she kisses you. You did your best to hold back, but the way her lips melted into yours and her soft tongue slipping against yours, you didn't stand a chance.

Even after the song had ended and everyone around you jumped to the quick and heavy beat, on the dancefloor, you and Wanda stayed like this. Foreheads together and swaying to your own beat, holding eachother close, neither of you knowing you would be in the same spot a year later for your first dance as a married couple.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x gn!reader #wanda x y/n

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feeder86 · 1 year

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Siphon

Elias remembered it perfectly; the moment when his sister’s new boyfriend entered into the kitchen with her. It was as if the whole world had stopped; like nothing mattered anymore. It was a feeling unlike any other he had experienced; he could hardly understand why his heart was suddenly racing and why his palms had become so immediately sweaty.

The man had burst passionately into the room, pressing Elias’ sister up against the wall and kissing her; his hands sliding rudely onto her body, as if they were both teenagers again and unable to resist.

“Oh!” Eleanor scowled, seeing that they weren’t alone. “That’s Elias, my twin brother,” she grunted, pointing at their spectator.

“You have a twin brother?” the man shot back in surprise, completely unembarrassed that they had been caught. “You never mentioned you had a brother.” He reached forward with interest and held his strong-looking hand out for Elias to shake. “Hey there! My name is Lincoln,” he beamed with interest.

Elias wasn’t in the least bit surprised that his sister’s new boyfriend didn’t know anything about him. He was well used to that by now. A powerful, magical family producing an entirely non-magical, human son? His entire existence was swept under the carpet as often as possible. The shame! The embarrassment! Still, here was this man who was making him feel so strange, holding out his hand to him, even though the thought of where Lincoln’s hands had recently been definitely repulsed him. He wiped his palms on his pants and took it, feeling an indescribable sense of longing as their skin touched; his heart racing even more. “Nice to meet you,” he garbled. Then he thought harder. “Lincoln?” he mumbled, recognising that handsome face. “Lincoln Larson?” he asked; doubting himself that such a person could be here, standing in front of him; dating his sour-faced sister.

“That’s it!” Lincoln smiled. “You must follow baseball then?”

Elias felt like he had to refocus his eyes. Lincoln Larson was here, with his sister? “Um, yeah. Well. Yes, I do; a bit…” he replied, wondering why he couldn’t string together a full sentence. What was this guy doing to him? He gazed at those dazzling white teeth, the deep, dark brown eyes and the strong jaw. Athletes always seemed to have a certain presence about them. Perhaps it was that amazing, trained and strong physique; the ideal of body perfection; the way that his clothes fitted on that well cared for body; the height, the muscles, the charisma. Fuck! What was going on? He’d never had a crush like this before!

Elias realised that he must have been making a fool of himself, for his sister sighed in a hiss and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Lincoln. Let me show you the garden.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lincoln smiled pleasantly, following Eleanor out of the room and grabbing her rear on the way. Elias caught himself staring at the man’s large, muscular butt and he shook his head, as if to wake himself up. He turned around and slapped his face. What was the matter with him? This whole situation was bizarre. Lincoln might have been one of the most famous up and coming baseball players, but he was still a human. What was his sister doing dating him? Surely a man like Lincoln, no matter how famous or attractive he was, was in some way seen as unworthy of her? Eleanor was, after all, a nasty piece of work; she didn’t have any time or respect for those outside of their coven.

The strangeness continued at dinner. Elias had been sure that his parents would hit the roof when they saw a mortal roaming about the house. Instead, they had seemed completely delighted; turning on the charm and fussing around him as if he was an honourable guest.

“Can I get you some more beer?” their father asked the handsome twenty-three year old. But even when Lincoln said he didn’t want one, he was still brought one anyway.

The two new lovers giggled with delight the entire time. It was obvious that Lincoln was unable to stop himself touching her up under the table; his wandering hands seemingly unable to help themselves. Elias looked around, feeling as if he had slipped into some strange parallel universe, for his mother and father seemed to be grinning away in approval.

“Mother spent ages making this cake for you this afternoon,” Eleanor smiled at her new boyfriend, as the large, creamy cake was brought in. “You’ll have to try a nice big slice.”

“Are you not having any, Elias?” Lincoln asked, looking slightly unnerved at the huge portion he was served up.

“Um, no, not this time,” he replied. Cakes were not exactly his mother’s thing; although she could whip up a mean poison in no time at all.

“Aw, what’s the matter, Elias?” his sister teased him. “Have you put on a bit of weight recently?”

“Oh, get lost, Eleanor!” Elias spat back. The bitch always knew how to touch a nerve and he’d given her exactly what she wanted. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree and her eyes twinkled with delight.

Elias didn’t really know how it had happened. He’d also been so naturally slim, like the rest of the family. He hadn’t changed his diet or exercised less and yet, somehow, he’d packed on over forty pounds in the last three months. He felt the fat, like oozing sludge, settling itself on his stomach and butt. His ass fluttered with blubber when he walked and refused to be contained by almost all of his pants. He could even see it on his face; those puffier cheeks and slight chin that had made him grow his stubble out into a slightly thicker beard, simply to try and hide it.

Lincoln looked on, seeing the tension and jumped in, trying to smooth things over. “You know, if you want to improve your fitness, I can always do some training with you sometime?” he smiled helpfully. “I’ll definitely still be here in the morning,” he smiled passionately at his lover. “Your parents have a nice, big garden. We might as well use it.”

Elias could see his sister about to interject and tell him not to bother; that Elias didn’t even live here with them and that he wasn’t worth the effort; so he jumped in immediately. “That’d be great. Thanks, Lincoln!”

About ten minutes later, it was clear that the young couple were unable to contain themselves anymore. Lincoln made their excuses and chased Eleanor upstairs to her room, practically slamming her door shut.

“What the hell was that?” Elias asked. “How come Eleanor is dating a human? And a famous human at that?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business, do you?” his mother threw back, as if insulted by the impertinence of the question.

Elias could tell from her response that there was some sort of awful plan playing out; he could spot a love spell a mile off. His sister was in no way hot enough to be dating an athletic god like Lincoln. How would she even have met him in the first place? Whilst Elias might not have any magic himself, he knew the theory better than even his sister who, by all accounts, was a remarkably powerful individual. He suddenly felt incredibly protective of the young athlete, vowing to do his best for him, caught in this web of magic as he clearly now was. So, although Elias only returned home once a week, as requested by his family, he now vowed that he would be making a lot more home-visits. After all, no one else was going to protect Lincoln from whatever dire plan was already starting to play out.

The next morning, the garden workout went well. Lincoln pushed him hard, but he had been nice about it. They’d both worked up a sweat, with the hot athlete taking off his shirt to wipe his face with it. Oh, that body was sexy! It was the first time Elias had felt the stirring in his crotch. His attraction to Lincoln, it wasn’t just some peculiarity; it seemed to be very much physical. Those pecs, those arms, those abs and the large, muscular butt… He could have gazed at him all day long. The man took a long swig of his water, having promised to take Elias on a jog around town. That was, until Eleanor had turned up, waving at him through the window. She was dressed in her silk nightgown and posing provocatively, turning the horny guy’s brains into mush; abandoning Elias within seconds.

“What are YOU doing here again?” asked his sister a few days later. She was dishing out a large bowl of ice cream, clearly ready to take back upstairs with her, where her boyfriend was waiting.

Elias had driven by and seen that Lincoln’s sports car was sat on the drive. “Aren’t I allowed to see my family?” he answered, knowing that it was a poor response. Elias had never liked his family all that much and, with his own lack of power, they hadn’t liked him either. He was the black sheep; the one whose very existence was brushed under the carpet. “Is that for Lincoln?” he asked, glancing at the huge bowl of ice cream. “He might not want it, you know. His team has a very strict diet; especially with the games they’ve got coming up.”

“Lincoln will eat whatever he’s given,” Eleanor spat back impatiently. “Now why don’t you just fuck off to that little cockroach palace of yours? Mom and Dad have guests coming over later and the last thing they want is YOU here to embarrass them.” She grabbed her bowl, as well as a bottle of beer, and started to walk out.

Just then, Lincoln suddenly appeared, dressed only in his boxer shorts and looking just as stunning as he had the other day in the garden. “Babe! I was wondering where you’d got to,” he smiled, not noticing, or not caring that Elias was there as well. A definite hardness was visible through his underwear, and he kissed his girlfriend even with her hands full. “Are you coming back to bed?” he asked keenly.

“I’m just on my way there now,” Eleanor smiled back. “I’ve got you some treats!”

“Thanks, babe,” Lincoln smiled. “But I can’t touch stuff like that at the moment. I’m on strict orders.”

Elias looked at his sister triumphantly, but she simply smirked back at him. “Oh no!” she sighed. “I spent all that time getting this ready for you and you don’t even want to try it…” she cried with theatrical sadness. “Oh, go on, Lincoln. Just have a little bit… for me!”

Lincoln smiled in that love-sick way and took the bowl. “It’s delicious, honey,” he nodded, passing it back to her after a couple of spoonfuls.

Eleanor didn’t take the bowl but put her hand to his wrist. “Then come upstairs with me. Have your ice cream and your beer and stop worrying about work. Just relax! You do not know how to do that, don’t you?” she teased.

Lincoln sighed again, but he smiled sweetly at her. “Alright!” he relented. “I’m always so relaxed when I’m with you! There’s nowhere else in the world I would rather be!”

Elias watched as they went in for a kiss. He couldn’t stand it. “Hey, Lincoln. How about we have another training session next week?” he asked keenly.

Lincoln looked across at him as if he really hadn’t noticed he was there. “Oh, hey buddy!” he smiled, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Sure, sure,” he nodded. “I’ll be here on…” he began, raising his eyes up and thinking of his commitments. “I’ll have to let you know. Things are a bit crazy at the moment.”

“I understand,” Elias nodded with a little disappointment, watching as the pair of them disappeared upstairs.

Over the coming weeks, Elias’ heart sank each and every time he saw the news about Lincoln. Despite the busy run of games, he wasn’t playing at all. ‘Injured’ was all the scant information given by the club. He’d missed three really important games. How could that be the case? He was paid an absolute fortune and yet, every time Elias went by his parent’s house, he saw Lincoln’s car in the driveway. He’d popped in a good few times and yet, Eleanor and Lincoln were always upstairs in her bedroom, humping away like rabbits.

“Is everything going well with Lincoln?” Elias asked his mother. “The news keeps on saying he’s off with an injury. Is Eleanor treating him well?”

“He’s human,” his mother replied shortly as she mixed some sort of potion in the kitchen. “They’re fragile little things.”

Elias ground his teeth. What was his mother trying to imply?

“But is he all right?” he pressed.

“Yes, yes! He’s fine! Leave your sister alone!” she shot back irritably.

“Snakeroot, nettle AND poppy!” Elias noted with concern as he watched his mother work. He might not have had any ability with potions, but he knew the theory. “Mother, what are you up to?” he asked suspiciously.

Shooed out of the kitchen, Elias found himself sat back in his car staring up at the house he had grown up in. Something was going on in there; something bad. Every bone in his body was telling him that he needed to discover it. Lincoln’s very life could depend on it.

As Elias expected, Lincoln never did get back to him about training. Thankfully, a lot of the weight he’d put on was slowly starting to go anyway. He’d dropped five pounds this week alone. He’d hoped to see Lincoln when he went round for dinner, but he and Eleanor had remained in her room and Elias’ parents had refused to comment on any questions he’d asked about them. Tonight was different though. Tonight was going to be a celebration. The nominations for the next coven leader had just been announced and Eleanor’s name was one of them. Elias’ jaw dropped when his mother rang him up proudly to tell him. Their little Eleanor, in the running to be the next coven leader! The youngest in two centuries!

The coven his family belonged to was unlike most. It was conservative in the extreme; old fashioned and cut-throat. Being the leader wasn’t just about being the most powerful, wise or knowledgeable. It was about brute strength and mastery over one’s opponents. Eleanor might have been powerful, but she lacked all of the other required skills. Just the fact that her name had been mentioned was the most bizarre thing Elias had ever heard. If she reached the head-to-head stage, she’d lose her head, quite literally. That meant that Elias felt no small amount of guilt as he almost wished his sister away. With her gone, Lincoln would be free of her; and free of whatever wicked spell she had over him.

When Eleanor came down that night, Elias’ jaw almost dropped. He’d never seen his sister looking so fit and strong. She was like some sort of female body-builder. All femininity was stripped from her body and she looked, in all respects, like some sort of warrior. “How have you..?” Elias stuttered in shock, hardly believing what he was seeing. Then he saw Lincoln following along behind her and everything seemed to click into place. “Lincoln?” he gasped.

The handsome athlete looked as if he hadn’t exercised in weeks. A solid looking paunch had appeared on his athletic form, pushing out love handles to his sides, as if the fat was preparing to fully encircle itself around his middle.

“Oh, hey, Elias!” he smiled happily, as if he was completely oblivious. The puffiness to his cheeks was even more apparent up close.

“Eleanor, how could you?” he shouted in alarm, plainly seeing what had happened but still trying to work out what sort of magic could have made it so.

“What?” Eleanor smirked in delight. “You mean the smelly human?” she marvelled triumphantly, turning around and pulling Lincoln into a passionate kiss. She lifted his shirt up so that her hands could roam cheekily across his body as the boy kissed her back with as much love as any man could give. However, Elias knew that his sister was just giving him a look at the fattened paunch Lincoln had developed recently. Gone were the abs, and in their place, a puffy rounded stomach. Her hands turned him around and she squeezed his butt. Elias couldn’t help but look, seeing from that slight touch just how much softer and under-exercised that large athletic rear had become.

Elias stared hatefully at his sister as she came out of the childish display. He could see now that Lincoln really did mean nothing to her. She was using him; using his body to make her own more powerful and strong; ready to take up the challenge of leading the coven.

Throughout dinner, she seemed to taunt Elias with how much control she had over Lincoln, loading up his plate and then bringing him dessert after dessert; insisting that if he truly loved her, he would eat it all without question.

“This is more than a love spell, isn’t it?” Elias asked, having thought for hours over the theory of how this might have been done. “You’ve tethered yourself to him so that your bodies connect. That’s how you’re doing this; stealing from him.”

“Something like that,” his sister smirked in delight. She reached over and rubbed Lincoln’s bloated gut. The guy was so stuffed, he didn’t look like he could take in any of what was being said. “Fattening him speeds up the transference. And he’s such a good little piggy for me,” she cooed, giving Lincoln’s belly a patronising triple pat, even though the boy flinched in discomfort.

“You’re using potions as well, aren’t you?” Elias stated accusingly to their mother. “What you’ve done… This isn’t natural.”

“Oh, we spent many months testing out the best potions,” Eleanor nodded.

“Eleanor!” their mother chuckled warningly, as if to stop her from continuing.

But Eleanor seemed too delighted in herself to stop. “Didn’t you wonder why you got so fat last summer?”

Elias inhaled sharply. Now it all made sense. They’d all done it to him; used him like a guinea pig, ready for the main event! “How could you?” he exclaimed, looking down at the remaining fifteen pounds that still sat stubbornly across his stomach.

“Easy! It was the most fun we’ve all had in years!” Eleanor laughed, and even their mother didn’t deny it, sitting there with a smirk on her face.

“And what about Lincoln?” Elias asked. “You’re connected to him for life. Even if you do become coven leader, you can never marry anyone else.”

Eleanor laughed at the supposed problem Elias had laid out before her. She gazed across at Lincoln, he seemed to be drifting off into a supernaturally induced sleep. “Once I have what I want…” she teased. Then she flicked her finger violently, letting Elias know exactly what would become of Lincoln in time. “Luckily, mom has always been very gifted when it comes to poisons!”

Although Elias had always hated his sister, those feelings of wanting her to die in the coven leadership contest suddenly boiled up inside of him. If she didn’t make it through the challenges, that would be the end of her. And now, that was the only hope poor Lincoln had.

Elias stared at the pictures of Lincoln plastered all over the internet. It had only ever been a matter of time, he realised. He didn’t know how Lincoln was dealing with his management, but the vague excuses for why he wasn’t playing had led to an inevitable curiosity amongst the media. Then, one day, there they were – the pictures that the world took in with shock and horror: Lincoln, relaxing with Eleanor, in what should have been the very private back garden. Elias scratched his head, wondering how the photographer had scaled the high fence in order to get the shot. But however it happened, those images were set to destroy any hope of a comeback. Lincoln’s round little paunch sat atop of his loose fitting sweat pants and the shots of him from behind revealed the mass of his softer butt and budding love handles. There were close ups of his chubbier face and even his previously firm and attractive pecs, now looked softer and puffier, under the scrutiny of the many unflattering articles that were written about him.

Elias held tight and waited. Even by draining Lincoln’s strength, Eleanor didn’t have what it would take to win the fight for coven leadership. It was just a matter of time until Lincoln could be free of her. But that didn’t happen.

Eleanor reached the head-to-head and then, in one sickening phone call, late one evening, Elias’ mother called him to let him know that his sister had indeed won. He didn’t know how to react. All hope of saving Lincoln had just faded away. He threw on his jacket and went out into the cold evening air, trying to walk off his anger.

“Excuse me!” called a polite, but assertive voice behind him. “You’re Elias, aren’t you?”

Elias turned around, looking puzzled and noticing that the woman had clearly been parked outside of his apartment block.

“I’m following the story about Lincoln Larson’s contract termination,” she explained; letting Elias know that she was one of the hordes of journalists who had been camped outside of his family home all week long. “I understand that your sister is dating him?”

With that, she pressed a recorder to Elias’ face. “Yeah,” he shrugged, starting to walk away from her.

“Would you like to offer any comment? You and your sister don’t get along, do you?”

Elias raised his eyebrows. This girl had clearly done her homework. “What else have you learned about my family?” he asked with interest.

With the smirk of a journalist, pleased to have her research validated, the reporter kept the mic up against Elias’ mouth as they continued walking to his car. “I know that they’re strange. They have links with the occult and several missing people's reports point to them, despite a frustrating lack of evidence.”

“Are you going to publish that?” Elias asked, surprised with how sure of herself the girl sounded.

“Do you think it’s credible?” she asked.

Elias stood by his car door, pausing to say only one thing. “Write the story.”

Despite the crowds of journalists outside the house, taking pictures of Lincoln’s car still sitting on the driveway, there was no one at home that night. It was only the next day when Elias received the frostiest and briefest phone call from his mother that he was summoned to the family home once more. He expected that they wanted him to bow before his sister and pay his respects. However, his heart sank when he arrived, seeing all three with the most severe and angry faces he had ever witnessed.

“Look at what you did!” Eleanor cried out; her voice deeper and more masculine than Elias had ever heard it. “You’re trying to expose us!” With that, she threw an array of printed newspaper articles across at Elias; each one more damning and accusatory towards their family’s murderous links. Their source? The very brother of the girl Lincoln Larson was dating.

Panic filled Elias’ voice. “I didn’t…” he lied. “I would never!”

“I should have done this years ago!” Eleanor smiled; her parents positioning themselves behind her, forming a triangle, ready for the curse. “You’re a liability. A filthy waste of space!”

“Please!” Elias begged, knowing what was about to happen. He saw the red consuming his sister’s eyes: the killing curse building inside of her. “Don’t do this, please!”

Those could very well have been Elias’ final words were it not for what happened next. Despite closing his eyes and waiting for the impact, Elias heard a stumbling in front of him. He peeked out, seeing his mother and father catching Eleanor as she fell back; looking like she had been punched hard in the face.

Elias didn’t wait around. With his family distracted, he fled, running down the steps of his family home as fast as his feet would carry him. He heard the clicks of the cameras as he went, racing into his car and speeding away faster than ever before.

It was a odd thing, waiting for death. Elias didn’t know where to go. His family would track him down wherever he went. All he had done was grant himself a few more hours of life. He closed his eyes that night, knowing that he may never open them in the morning, and felt only surprise as he sensed the morning light stream in through the cheap, thin curtains. He stood, taking himself to the shower and suddenly didn’t recognise his reflection in the mirror. Gone wre the fifteen pounds of blubber on Elias’ torso, replaced with rippling stomach muscles. He had pecs, large shoulders and biceps. His forearms were huge and his thighs and butt had become solid and muscular. He gasped, not recognising his own, deep voice. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed to himself, trying to make sense of it all. How had this..? He looked down at his hands, sensing for the first time, the most remarkable power within them. Enough power perhaps, to defend himself. Or better, challenge his sister and finally free Lincoln once and for all. Perhaps this was destiny calling him.

Emboldened, Elias didn’t wait to be ambushed. He strode up the steps to his family home holding his head high. A simple spell had been placed on the door to prevent others from entering, but it was easily overpowered.

“Don’t!” Eleanor screamed, seeing the door swing open; their parents standing strong beside her, holding her up. Her voice was weak and high pitched; her body withered and aged.

Suddenly, seeing their son so altered, Elias’ parents dropped Eleanor to the floor and stood with reverence, gazing upon their boy. Then, for all three of them, it all clicked into place. Elias had always had power. Eleanor, leader of the coven, was dying because she had tried to curse the very person she had been siphoning her power from her entire life. The only power she had ever had was to leach from others; whether she had ever known that or not. Now it was too late.

Abandoned by her parents and presented with the great, immeasurable power of her brother, Eleanor breathed her last whilst looking upon him; her body crumbling into dust that swiled into a violent hurricane around Elias, giving him back every last trace of what he had lost to her over the many years of his life.

The dust settled and Elias finally saw his parents, both of them, down on their knees before him; heads bowed. No one said a word; there was no need to.

“Leave this house,” Elias finally commanded them, resisting the urge to curse the pair of them for what they had tried to do to him only the day before.

Wasting no time, his parents scurried out of the house, leaving Elias alone in the quiet, soulless building.

“Lincoln?” Elias called out hopefully, wondering if they had kept the poor man alive. He crept up the stairs. His family had been right all along; humans really did have a strange smell about them. He opened the door to Eleanor’s bedroom, seeing the naked former athlete gorging himself on an array of foods that had been left out for him. His stomach was so bloated and round, his pecs turned to nothing but fat; eating as if he had been magically compelled to do so. Perhaps it was Eleanor’s last ditch attempt to gain strength from him once again, as she felt her body weakening and dying. Either way, Lincoln was alive.

Sighing with relief, Elias was surprised to find himself stifling the urge to laugh, seeing the human so far out of control. Then Lincoln looked up, his face filling with happiness as he called out Elias’ name. There was love in his eyes and he tried to fumble his way up and onto his feet.

“Jeez! What has my sister done to you?” Elias asked, seeing the blubbery boy coming towards him; the fat in his stomach rippling and jiggling; his nipples bouncing. He knew that Lincoln was his now, in much the same way he had been Eleanor’s. The human was, in a sense, his inheritance, bound using his own magic; although Elias had not known it back then. “I’ve come to rescue you,” he declared, placing his hand on the boy’s chubby rear and pulling him into his muscular body. The sense of ownership he felt was intoxicating. This boy was now his. “Did you miss me?” he asked, puckering his lips for a kiss.

Lincoln fell into the kiss; his sweet, sugary lips and tongue sliding passionately into his new lover. “I want to be with you forever!” he cried, as if sensing the power emanating from Elias’ whole being.

“You will be,” Elias nodded, smiling. “You’re mine now.” He ran his hands over the man’s bulbous love handle. “All mine!”

“You have not been appointed to lead our coven. You may have come from a powerful family, but you have no knowledge of us. What authority do you have to lead us?” spat the first angry challenger. There were four of them, all male, ready and willing to fight Elias to the death if need be.

Elias took a beat, gazing across at the strapping men. Any one of them could indeed lead the coven well. But they were no match for him.

“And yet, here I am!” Elias smiled, hoping to infuriate them. “You all foolishly allowed my late sister to take the power of our coven. Now that power resides within me. I am your leader now, whether you like it or not.”

“I’ll never bow to you!” spat the second of the men, inciting furious nods of agreement from the other three.

“Do you dare to challenge me?” Elias asked, excited to display his power before the whole coven gathered there that night; that was, all but his parents, who had wisely chosen to remain in exile. “Come, step forward. Take what you believe is yours,” he dared the strapping men, offering any one of them a sharp, ceremonial knife.

One angry, hot-headed young guy stepped forwards. “I will kill you, and that digusting, fat human consort,” he nodded towards Lincoln, who stood just behind Elias, dressed only from the waist down for Elias’ own amusement; all that fat hanging from his formerly athletic physiue! The challenger began mumbling a spell, building a giant ball of pure power within his hands.

“Enough!” Elias cried out, raising a single hand and extinguishing the boy’s power in an instant. “On your knees!” he demanded, slamming the man down on all fours with a mere gesture of his arm.

The coven murmured at the display of such authority and even the other three boys backed off slightly. The challenger on the floor gasped, as if trying to push himself upwards against a force that was holding him on all fours.

Elias strolled down towards the man, enjoying the moment. “My sister was a siphon. When she died, that power automatically came to me. One who is powerful enough to see its true potential at long last. She tethered herself to the fat human,” Elias pointed at Lincoln, “despite never actually needing to.” He bent down to his challenger’s ear. “All she ever really had to do was take what she wanted.”

With that, the man began writhing with pain as his power was ripped out his body. Elias closed his eyes, feeling the pleasure of his power growing even more. When he opened his eyes once more, his gaze fell upon Lincoln and his large, bulging belly, full of fat and without a single trace of his former athleticism, now residing within Elias himself. The sight made him laugh aloud; Lincoln looked like nothing more than one of those fat, overgrown and overfed, stinking humans you saw gorging themselves at a fast food joint downtown. He felt his dick getting harder as he remembered exactly what had been done to the boy; what was still being done to him. Then he looked down at his powerless foe, still down on all fours, having surrendered to it.

“I’m sorry I had to do that,” Elias lied, bending over the man and placing a hand soothingly on his strapping back. Even without any power, the guy was still an impressive specimen. “But I won’t be tolerating insubordination now that I am leader of this coven.” He slid his hand down the boy’s long back and slapped him on his muscular rear, sighing with how impressive it felt. Then, with a final titter of laughter, he raised his hand and waved to it. “Bye bye!” he sang, finding a power deep inside of himself that no one in the coven had ever witnessed before.

The handsome guy on the floor suddenly yelled once again; jumping like a great pain had attacked his stomach. The whole room gasped as a great sweat covered his skin, and he panted and grunted, gritting his teeth against the power of the spell he was being placed under. Elias gazed around at the crowds who shuffled nervously, wondering what would be done to him.

It began in the stomach, as the traitor’s t-shirt started to look very snug around his waist. A great bloating seemed to be occurring, which spread itself like a tire around him, bringing softening flesh into his sides. Eventually, the developing mass of this became sufficient enough to pull up the shirt, releasing two doughy-looking love handles that seemed to be expanding by the second.

Elias closed his eyes for a moment and moaned in pleasure as he felt his body getting stronger and stronger. Just like his family had stripped Lincoln of all of his athleticism, Elias was doing the same now, fattening the traitor with extreme speed to increase the pace of the transformation. When he opened his eyes again, he saw for himself how tight the guy’s pants had become around his widening rear. He chuckled, imagining how uncomfortable it must feel with the waistband digging in more and more. That impressively built man was being swallowed by his own fat.

No one from the crowds dared to move or help the fattening boy. Lard was swelling up his face and neck, more and more evident each time he’d lifted his head to wail in pain. The fleshy parts of his body seemed to be expanding more. A pop was heard as the boy’s waistband clearly gave way; the pants still trying to accommodate the increasingly lardy glutes and thighs. Now filled with fat, the stomach seemed to drop, entirely outside of the t-shirt which simply stretched across his softening chest. Hunched over as he was, the man’s ass crack began sliding up and out of the pitiful pants. Greater tears were heard in the fabric; the t shirt tore under the arms and the pants split all through the crotch. On and on he fattened, swelling with pure blubber, amassing in the enormous stomach. The boy lost strength even to hold himself up; collapsing onto the floor, his belly fat spreading like spilled milk on the concrete. It was mostrous obesity which, even now, Elias refused to halt. Putting a number to the smelly boy’s size seemed impossible: four hundred pounds? Five hundred? What did it even matter? Even the crowds looked on with disgust at him; no longer one of their own.

Elias turned to view the other three men who had tried to challenge him. Wisely, each one of them had already sunk to their knees, bowing their heads at the even more muscular Elias, whose clothes barely contained the massive bulk of his stature. Throwing off his shirt, Elias allowed the crowd to see what had become of him; a god amongst all of them. He smirked to himself, wondering what to do with the three remaining men. Best of all, he could smell their fear. He walked in front of each one, lifting their chins to him and gazing into their eyes, as if searching for true repentance. Then, with the widest grin on his face, Elias spoke only to the crowds surrounding them all. “Get them!” he ordered.

There was a great rush of movement. One of the men stood and allowed himself to be seized by the coven, accepting his fate, whereas the other two attempted to flee; eventually brought down by the great many members now willing to follow the orders of their leader, without question. As if in an act of mercy, all three of them had been stripped of their clothes by the coven and were presented, entirely naked, with arms held behind their backs and the two who had tried to escape in headlocks; held by their cousins, brothers, sisters, fathers, like an offering to Elias to do what he wanted with them. They had made a grab for power and lost. There was no saving them now.

Consumed with his own sense of authority and accomplishment, Elias ripped off his own remaining clothes, standing there proudly in just his underwear; powerful in every sense of the word. His erection was strong, having grown, just like every other muscle in his body; not that he thought twice about anyone seeing it. The three men who had, up until so recently, been pumped full of adrenaline and testosterone, ready for the fight, now seemed to cower and whimper as they were held before him. Each was handsome and strong; with beautiful, toned bodies, built with muscle from years of training and challenges; true warriors of their dark coven.

Elias began reciting an ancient spell, mumbling beneath his breath. All three began wriggling uncomfortably against the many hands that held them, their eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the end to come. In contrast, Elias’ eyes danced with fire as he began to feel the men’s power entering into him; his giant body able to take it all in with ease. The men wailed with the pain of being stripped of their abilities; becoming nothing more than helpless mortals.

Even before he had completed the power transfer, Elias began the fattening of them. He could hear the changes in their groans as the inevitable stomach pains began to grow within them. All three tried to lean forward, but it was no use. Their skin had become sweaty and almost slimy to the touch, resulting in even more hands reaching out to hold them still for Elias. Then the first signs began to appear; a bloating in each of their middles, simultaneously.

“Hold still!” shouted an angry man, trying to keep one of the writing men in place for his leader, even as his slippery body began to swell.

“It’s working!” another marvelled, able to stand back and watch Elias’ power in action. “He’s doing it to them as well!”

Stomach muscles quickly disappeared beneath a layer of soft flesh. For one of the men, his pecs began turning into pointed nipples with remarkable speed. The pushing out of the belly was seen on all of them, rounding out into a paunch. Another of them seemed to grow especially well in the hips; his thighs swelling faster than the others’ and his glutes clearly taking more of a hit than was common on the male physique.

It was the greatest pleasure Elias had ever known; his large body becoming more powerful than any other. He seemed to rise in stature; his giant shoulders pushing outwards. He widened his stance as his enormous, muscular thighs swelled with muscle and his whole body stretched, increasing his height to well beyond that of any other in the room; his underwear now sliding up into his crack as his giant muscular glutes took shape.

What ecstacy it was, watching his enemies fall like this. The ultimate defeat, stripping them of everything that made them special, watching as their handsome faces filled with fat. The crowds were readjustting their grip on them as they all swelled from their middles. One of the men opened his eyes and Elias eagerly held his stare. Those beautiful dark eyes falling back beneath increasingly large and puffy cheeks. Bellies rounding, fat now began to fill their groins, growing as if to take away even their very own manhoods.

The crowd stumbled with the bottom-heavy traitor on the end, as his giant rear pushed against those who held him up. His gaint, puffy arms were becoming difficult for them to grip, even as he appeared to lose the strength to try and fight against them. The boy in the middle looked almost drunk as his enormous chin began swallowing his neck. His stomach had grown large and ball-shaped, with an incredible width to his still expanding waistline. The third was almost comical to look upon, with enormous breasts beneath his hairy chest that sat atop a swollen, almost sagging belly. The stink of their combined sweat was making those not involved in holding them up slowly start to back away. The blubber was everywhere, rippling through their bodies; soft, squishy, overfed pigs. Elias laughed harder and harder as he pressed forward with their transformation, eventually toppling a group of strong men still holding one of the fattening boys up.

So while every single person in that coven looked up at him with fear in their eyes that night, they all knew with absolute certainty that they had found the ultimate leader that they were looking for. No other coven could challenge his might. Under Elias, they would find glory and prestige. The greatest leader that they would ever have.

“I don’t think those men wanted to be made fat like that,” Lincoln commented as an extraordinarily huge and muscular Elias slid into bed next to him that night.

Elias smiled and slid his large hand over Lincoln’s doughy belly, grabbing at the flesh and getting hard at the same time. The dumb, fat human hardly knew better than to question him. “Of course they didn’t,” he smiled, kissing Lincoln on his lips. “But I did it anyway. I was merciful. They’re still alive, aren’t they?”

“Is there a way to turn them back?” Lincoln asked innocently.

“Oh, Lincoln!” Elias sighed, enjoying the boy’s utter stupidity. “I wouldn’t turn those men back anymore than I would reverse what’s been done to you!” He grabbed at the jiggly flesh around Lincoln’s stomach and watched as the nipples bounced at the same time. “I don’t want you to try and get your simple brain around it but, trust me when I say that things are much better this way.” He grabbed Lincoln’s erection and began sliding his large hand up and down the comparatively pitiful shaft. All thought seemed to leave Lincoln’s mind and he began breathing heavily, lost to everything but the pleasure of being touched by Elias. “Don’t think that, just because we’re tethered together, we’re in any way equal. We’re not,” he stated warningly, despite the smile on his face. “You’re just my big, fat, pet piggy!” he teased. “Every day I will feed you a little bit more. Your belly is going to grow bigger and bigger, your ass will get squisher and more repulsive. You’ll be by my side; a warning to everyone in my coven about what I did to those four men tonight, so that none of them ever forget. And that…” he promised, leaning into Lincoln’s ear, “...is going to get me so fucking hard!”

Lincoln smiled as he felt Elias’ massive erection press against his large love handles, pressing it into what would eventually become enormous folds of fat.

“You want to make me happy, don’t you, Lincoln?” Elias asked, gazing down at the fat man’s face.

“More than anything!” Lincoln promised, sounding like he hadn’t heard a word of what had been said before.

“Good,” Elias nodded, reaching down to the floor where he had hidden an incredibly large slice of cake that had been laced with all of the fattening formulas his mother had been making over the last few weeks; a slow, erotic fattening that he planned to continue. “Eat this for me then,” he ordered, already sliding the fork into it. He could smell each ingredient of the many potions inside the cake slice, undetectable to Lincoln’s human nose, and it thrilled him to know what it would slowly do to the lardy boy, once ingested; those blubbery, foolsome pounds of pure fat pouring themselves into his already obese body. Damn! He was getting so turned on at the thought. He didn’t waste any time when Lincoln obediently opened his mouth to begin. “Such a lucky piggy!” he cooed, watching Lincoln swallow the first bite.

Lincoln moaned in appreciation, seeing his big, strong, powerful man gazing at him with such lust as he ate. His professional sports career seemed like such a distant memory. What a waste of time it had been training and building up his body in order to play at such a high standard. There was only one person that meant anything to him now. Someone he would never, ever disappoint.

“Open up, piggy…!”

439 notes · View notes

yaut-jaknowit · 2 years

Text

New Discoveries

Pairing: Uihoy (Male Yauta) x Reader (AFAB) x Vic'tao (Male Yautja)

Warnings: anal sex, rough sex, soft sex, bondage, slapping, pain kink, praise kink, slight size kink, knotting. Let me know if any were miss!

Word Count: 4385

Summary: Your life with Uihoy and Vic'tao is always crazy. For Paya's sake, you live with two alien hunters. What else do you expect? Over time, your relationship evolved more and more and more. You may not have been the first to have sex with an alien but, may be the first to have sex with two aliens at the same time. Your loose lips aided you for once. You accidentally let it slip you wanted to tie down either of them and have your way with them. Well, your wish is their command.

Author Note: So well, um, first time writing a threesome. Hopefully, it went well. I actually like this one. There's a little craziness in it which I enjoy. I try to make my somewhat realistic as possible but somethings are changed when screwing two aliens. More of these two will be coming. Both smut and not. I enjoy them, including Gawtin.

Masterlist

Ao3

Minors DNI Smut Below Cut Go away children

Soft yet strong rope was placed into your hands. Red blazed alive on your cheeks as you peered at it. This was a blessing in disguise after you let one thing slip one day. Such an embarrassing event but maybe it’ll work in your favor. Currently it is as Uihoy and Vic’tao stand in front of you. The latter shifted foot from foot while Uihoy stood still like a sturdy oak.

The rope easily held mighty when you pulled on it. It creaked underneath the strain, nothing else. Supposedly it’ll hold a Yautja down. None of you truly knew though. Now is the perfect time to test it under their strength.

Boy, did you know they were strong. You weren’t light and they each could lift you like paper. Sometimes, they did it just for fun or to display their strength. In all honesty, it was adorable when they showed off. Plus, you got a show. Who doesn’t want one when their lovers are beefy aliens that hunt for a living? Crazy people.

Uihoy patted your head. “Should hold Uihoy and Vic’tao,” he stated with a nod of his head. His lightly greying tresses swayed with the moment. The rings and decoration shined in the ship’s light. You heart fluttered in your chest at his words.

Gods, you couldn’t believe you let that slip. Loose lips while getting dicked down by an alien didn’t let you think straight. They weren’t complaining. Well, Vic originally was against the idea.

A male in his prime doesn’t bow to a human like that. He refused to even give it thought. Until a sparring match between Uihoy and him.

The older male pinned his down and used training chain to tie his arms behind his back. When Vic’tao had to stand up afterwards, there was no hiding the clear tent. Uihoy was happy to point that out, especially with you in the room. You were still up for it if Vic’tao consented, of course.

It took some puppy eyes, maybe one or two blowjobs before he relented. Uihoy smirked proudly and told Vic he wasn’t going to regret this. Strangely enough, Uihoy seemed to know more about this then what you thought as normal among their kind.

“Well, I hope it does. It’ll at least give the allusion of me having power over you guys.” You couldn’t help the smirk gracing your lips. A giddiness was beginning to hum in your bones. Tying down not only one but two Yautjas. A species that many in the universe fear.

A chuckle rumbled Uihoy’s chest. “Already know want to tie Uihoy and Vic down. Have way.” His words were your command. You couldn’t wait to try a couple of the new toys on them. You were thankful they had taken you back to earth, so you grab some supplies. Those said supplies, you wouldn’t let them know of. That would’ve ruined the surprise.

To be honest, you were truly nervous about the whole ordeal. Yet, deep down. There was an excitement that vibrated in your bones. More than you would let anyone know. But they could read it like an open book.

As the last knot was tightened, you stood back to admire your work. For Uihoy, he said whatever you wanted goes. And that you did. He had a couple of different designs you had been working on. His hands were tied up in a low hands box tie. For his legs, they were pinned in a diamond leg tie. You couldn’t leave his hips alone, loving them far too much. Rope was winded around it, called a bones and rope hip harness. All of it created beautiful art in your eyes. The purple rope worked well with the purple and green of his skin. You loved the way he looked all laid out for you.

For Vic’tao, you didn’t want to scare him too much or overwhelm him. So, you did a simple bunny tie where his forearms were behind his head, elbows pointed upwards like bunny ears. To ensure he couldn’t just pull it over his head and grab you, you tied the loose end around his ankles. It effectively bound him in a simple way.

The two before you looked magnificent. You couldn’t believe they were allowing you to live your best dream possible with them. None of the people you’ve been with in the past would even give it thought.

Yet, this. You smiled brightly kissed the both of them on their foreheads. Each giving a noise of approval. The ropes that surrounded Vic groaned when he tried to move but held steady. Perfect.

“Does everything feel okay? Nothing uncomfortable?” you questioned and strolled up in front of Vic. The male tried to sit up taller but the rope prevented him from doing so. He couldn’t move from his kneeling position. It was perfect so you didn’t need to tie his thighs and calves together.

“Yes,” he growled, hands twitching behind him. You purred out a ‘good’ and ran your hands over his upper torse; since he was now shorter than you. The power they gave almost made you drunk the more you thought about it. Two strong, fierce aliens allowed you to tie them up and have your way with them. What else in life do you need?

He began to purr, eyes threating to shut. When you raked your dull nails cross his skin, he shuttered and tugged again. “Relax, babes. I’m going to take care of the both of you,” you whispered to him and took a moment to grab something from your box of goodies.

Vic’tao tried to peer past you to see what it was but you kept it hidden. Even as you stalked up to him. The lubed butt plug inside of you could be felt with the movements. Then, you knelt before Vic and wrapped a hand around his cock. Vic thrusted his hips at your touch, yet you ignored that. You were able to block his view and pull a cock ring to the base of him, even passed the now noticeable knot. Every time with them was heaven. “Pauk, what are you doing?” His voice sounded strained.

After you slid it fully on, you stepped back again. His dick twitched. Vic looked down to find out what was there. “What is that?” He tilted his head at the strange ring like object around the base of his cock.

Then it began to vibrate. The remote control in your hand as you watched the male tense all of his muscles, eyes wide. All of his mandibles shot opened. You turned it down to its lowest setting. His spine relaxed, head bowed. You ran a finger on his chin. “Good boy,” you praised and saw how his cock jumped at your words.

Fuck, you were going to eat this up.

Next to the two of you, you heard what could be considered a whine. Uihoy looked at you with little patience. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby boy. Are you wanting attention too?” you teased the purple Yautja and walked over to him. He didn’t make another noise but peered up at you. Those bright eyes told you everything.

You straddled his shoulders and kissed him gently between his upper mandibles. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll take care of both of you.” That was a promise. They knew you were one to keep a promise. The remote was set off to the side, away from Vic’tao.

Uihoy purred excitedly and strained against his bonds. You smiled and grabbed a tress carefully. The rubbery texture felt strange. Nevertheless, you brought it up to your lips and kissed it. His rumbling chest stuttered. A chuckle sounded from the back of your throat. Then you licked a minute strip up the tress. His ropes creaked loudly. He squeaked your name. You knew he loves when you paid attention to his tresses. You had a strange fascination over them and the fact that they could feel with them.

Before long, you scooted back, forced to let go of his short tress. Your body knelt between two powerful tied up thighs. They twitch as you ran your hands from his knees down to where they met with his hips. Purple rope twined around them.

When your hand soft grazed the underside of his cock, Uihoy made a choking noise and thrusted his hips. A small thought of slapping his thigh came to mind but it was quickly squished. It maybe hard to hurt them, didn’t mean you would risk it. They were your lovers.

“Is this what you want, babes?” you asked with a honeyed voice. But he wasn’t given the chance to answer. Your lips wrapped around the bright green head of his cock. It twitched in your grasp.

Poor Uihoy gasped, body strung tight. You were loving his reactions when he was like this. Every one of your touches brought out different noises you adored to hear. Then, you pulled off and kissed the tip. “I need you to stay still, okay? Be good for me, alright?” His eyes widened again.

Pauk, he felt like he drowning because of you. The oxygen was stolen from his lungs as he felt your tongue lick a stripe from his knot to tip. Drops of semen drippling down his length. Uihoy picked up his head just in time to see you scoop it up with your tongue. He was Yautja for Paya sake and had lots of stamina. But you, you were stripping him free from that. Uihoy didn’t want this to end so soon even though he could recover quickly.

Your plush lips surrounded his dick once more and sucked. Ropes groaned and dug against thick scales. “D-death of-of Uihoy,” he muttered after you released him again. You giggled proudly then let your hand roam up to his pecs. Your nails raked down below his navel before your fingers wrapped around his cock once more.

“Wouldn’t that be a great death?” you jester and slowly used your hand to stroke him. The other limb reached and grabbed the remote again. Out of the corner of your eyes, Vic’tao was staring you down, hips constantly moving. Yet, unable to gain any friction.

From your spot, he looked beautiful. Admiration sparkled in your orbs as you peered at him with a soft smile. With one press, the vibration sped up once. Vic’tao lost focus and tried to bow his body to best that he could in his situation. You laughed quietly before returning attention on Uihoy, tongue feeling along the ridges underside of his lengthy cock.

The soft furs underneath your knees helped cushion them. As you begin to take more of his dick in your mouth, one of your hands reached below to his balls and gently played with them. Accidently, Uihoy harshly thrusted up. The tip shoved down your throat. You were quick to pull back and refused to puke.

He chittered rapidly in his language, apologizes spilling from his mandibles. It was unbelievable to himself he had done that. Uihoy should have great self-control as a seasoned hunter. Not act like a new blood.

When the purple Yautja struggled against his bonds, you laid a firm hand on his chest. “It’s okay, Uie. I’m fine. That just makes me learn that your hips need to be tied down as well. I’ll leave that for next time though.” You weren’t about to let that ruin the mood. It was a mistake. He got ahead of himself, and a lesson was learned. All you need for next time was more rope for that.

You quickly glanced at Vic’tao. Semen was dripping down the ridges underneath but nowhere near enough to you he had came. Plus, he’ll let you hear when he was. But Vic seems to be enjoying himself at that speed currently. There’s no point in going any higher. Yet.

Gentle purrs rumbled in Uihoy’s throat as you returned back to your former actions, slower this time. Your free hand roamed up his frame, mindful this time. You pulled up so only his tip was in your throat before running a nail over Uihoy’s nipple.

When you felt his cock beginning to twitch wildly, you drew back and wrapped your pointer finger and thumb around the base. As he humped the air, your hand went with the movements and prevented from any friction.

Little spurts of cum sadly drooled from the tip of dick. Once he settled down, you leaned forward licked up what had fallen. Uihoy whined your name, muscles straining against his binds. “I know, babes, I know. It’ll be worth it though, I promise.”

A Yautja could cum a lot of semen, a lot more than the average human. Plus, with that knot and their size, you would always feel bloated after one comes inside of your cunt; little escapes once they knot inside of you. But if you were to take what happens when you edge a human male… it was a slight test to see if it was true.

You finally stood up and rid your body of any clothing, Yet, you kept your damp underwear in hand. For a couple of moments, Uihoy was left by himself on the floor. To which he complained whole heartly about. Something you don’t blame him for.

Vic’tao looked up at you, fire blazing in his eyes. There was no need for words for what he wanted to do to you if he wasn’t tied up. Your poor ass would be destroyed and filled to the brim. The thing is, you made it worse.

That pair of underwear was waved in front of his face. A long, dark pink tongue darted out and was able to get a taste. His eyes rolled back in his head. “Be a good boy and you may get a real taste later,” you teased the poor, tied up Yautja once more. His bindings creaked under his strength. Then, the male struck, mandibles snatching the clothing from your grasp. “Hey!”

When you attempted to retrieve them, Vic’tao would growl lowly in warning. Though, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t do anything to seriously injure you, it was enough. You returned to Uihoy.

Plush furs met your knees as you got back into position before the older Yautja. He purred happily and wiggled his hips. You petted them. “I know. You’re being so good, Uie. So good.” A full body tremble raked through him.

Sometimes, you learn something new about your lovers while in bed.

As you pulled off of Uihoy for a quick breather, there was a sharp snapping noise next to you. There was no time to react as a firm hand shoved you face first into Uihoy’s muscular stomach. Wet cloth was forced into your mouth. Another hand wrapped around the flared base of the butt plug and carefully pulled it free. You could feel the lube slowly drip from your slightly gaping hole. It made a disgusting sound once it had hit the floor some of feet away.

A gasp tore through your throat as you attempted to turn your head. Flashes of yellow and blue caught your eye. “Mpf?!” you attempted to question. Was this Vic? That was the only other being you could think of doing this to you. No one else was on the ship.

“I’ve had enough of your teasing!” he snarled. Then, you felt the familiar wet tip of his cock pushing into you. Your head reared up at the feeling.

Even in an angry and horny mindset, Vic was careful. The male went slow until his hips met the back of your, pressing your belly against Uihoy’s cock. It was trapped underneath you as Vic stilled for the rest of his patience left. You could feel the vibrating cock ring. Then, Vic’tao pulled all the way to the tip before thrusting forward.

The first pound was so harsh and strong, it made the skin there sting. Vic continued that way as you moaned and squealed and wriggled underneath his bulky frame. Your hands shook as you grabbed the closest thing: one of Uihoy’s tress. The male groaned, hips jolted up and moved against your slicking skin. Sweat beginning to coat it.

Uihoy did his best and used a mandible to hook onto the underwear in your mouth. With one simple tug, it was pulled out. Your pleas and noises easily amplified. Vic’tao didn’t even seem to notice, far too deep into destroying your ass. Lube was your best friend when you’re with them. Even when one of them used your cunt, it was a given to use lube there as well.

The male below you swiped a drop of sweat rolling down your forehead with his tongue. “See how you like it when you’re left to be teased and cannot cum!” You had just enough mind left to realized the cock ring was working in preventing him from coming as quickly. “You think that’s nice to your partner? I’ll show you.” Vic’tao emphasized his words.

Claws dug into your softer skin and pierced it. The pain made your stomach tighten. Your free hand snaked behind you but it was quickly grabbed. A threatening slap stung your ass. It left behind a red handprint, you knew for sure. A cry escaped your lips at the feeling.

Before long, you could feel the knot beginning to swell as tried to continue the use of his full length. But he didn’t want to knot you yet. “Fuck, Vic!” you whimpered into Uihoy’s stomach, nails raking down his skin. You were in heaven right now. Surely you had died and gone to heaven.

More sounds of rope snapping caught your faint attention. Your eyes barely focused on a purple and green arm reaching out with great speed.

The cock inside of you paused. The white noise drowning out almost everything faded away as you looked up.

Uihoy’s hand was wrapped around Vic’tao’s neck. The latter male was pulled down to be face-to-face with him. Low, threatening clicks were shared between the two. Your brain far too gone to mush to understand they were saying.

Suddenly, Vic was pushed off of you. His cock pulled out of you harshly. Another cry escaped your lips afterwards. Uihoy petted the top of your head, gave a quick closed mandible kiss then set you to the side on your back.

Even though you hadn’t come, your body hummed softly while your brain floated around. The pleasure delivered before and after made you feel phenomenal. Ten out of ten. Would do again. You loved it when Vic got rough with you and pushed you around. You had told them you wanted that and he was happy to listen. Your wish is his command.

But Uihoy wasn’t either happy about something Vic had did or wanted to be the dominate one. As you laid there, watching the events unfold, you scoped the smeared cum on your stomach and licked it off of your fingers. They tasted so alien to you.

Vic was forced in the same position he had put you through. This time, his mouth was hovering over your cunt.

That former fire in his eyes disappeared to a simmering heat. If this was a different situation, you would’ve laughed. Instead, you reached forward to pet his brow. But Uihoy gently grasped that hand and shook his head. “Don’t. Needs to learn lesson. Vic not in control,” he stated firmed and grabbed a handful of dark tresses. Clicks were spilling from Uihoy’s mandibles.

It was unusual to see Uihoy be so dominate. Most of the time, he was soft like rose petals. Rarely did he top Vic’tao anyhow. He left all that to Vic’tao. It was more up his alley anyhow.

Nevertheless, to see Uihoy with that dangerous look in those orbs of his… You thought you could come right then and there.

The yellow male made a noise of disagreement which Uihoy pulled harshly on his tresses. His action made you smirk down at Vic. Then, he grumbled something that made Uihoy content. You reached over and grabbed the nearby remote. One press and the device stopped buzzing altogether. Vic whined up at you and humped the air. “Nuh-uh. This is your punishment but a good lesson for all of us. I need to get stronger bindings.” Your mind was slowly coming back to you.

“Agreed,” Uihoy said then lathered both his cock and Vic’tao’s butt with plenty of lube. The younger male tried to push back on Uihoy. A quick slap to his ass forced him to stop. “Done? Or do need more?” The threat was easily heard. “Now do what told.”

He dipped his head and gazed up at you. All four of his mandibles were curled in, his tongue slithering out. Oh shit.

Before Vic had the chance to start anything, Uihoy spread his cheeks and pressed the tip of his cock in. The younger male made have pissed him off. He didn’t listen to their little hunter’s orders. But Uihoy wasn’t going to hurt him, just teach him a lesson.

His movement were careful, hips meeting the back of Vic’s thighs. Uihoy waited, listening to the deep rumble of the Yautja below him make. With his not free hand, he shoved Vic’tao forward. In the Yautja language, he growled for Vic to lick. He needed to make it up to their ooman. They’ll go out and buy better ropes as well. Test them on the spot so they don’t have this problem.

Vic’tao was quick to listen. A long, forked tongue licked up a strip, from bottom to top; paying special attention to your clit. Something they both learned along the way.

Your head was thrown back, back arching off of the bed covered in furs. With your wriggling body, he shifted to hook his arms around your thick thighs and hold you right. There was no moving away from him now. He had a delicious meal before. And he wasn’t about to let that go.

Pitiful cries poured from your lips as he dug in like an Alabama tick. Your hands clawed at the furs below but didn’t gain any footing. Every pass over your clit further pushed you up and up and up towards the clouds.

One of your hands snapped around one of his free tresses and pulled. You were close, much closer than you would rather admit. And Vic knew this, claws digging into the muscles that formed your thighs and doubled down. The purrs surging through his throat vibrated his tongue and somehow buzzed across your clit. “Vic, babes-“ you attempted to tell him you were about to come all over his tongue but couldn’t. The words lodged in your throat.

White light blinded you, body arched off of the bed. Your mouth dropped in a silent scream, eyes rolling up in your head. But the male didn’t relent. His tongue continued to lick and play with your clit, sometimes dipping into your cunt. All the while making squishing noises every time he did so.

And he didn’t stop. You tried to use his tress to pull him off. Yet, Vic stayed locked to your hips, eyes set ablaze again.

You felt yourself come again. You hadn’t even finished with your first one but Vic had already dragged another from you. That’s when it became too painful to endure. “Y-yellow!” you stuttered, nails digging harshly into his dreads without meaning to.

Immediately, the hulking Yautja pulled away. Your body melted into the bed, barely registering the ground slightly shaking underneath you. Both of you eyes were closed, lungs harshly taking breaths in.

A roar jolted you from your content state. Above the two of you, Uihoy’s mandibles were fully expanded. He looked magnificent, body flexing, hips stuttering with all he had left. He tugged on Vic’s tresses, forcing him so his back against his own then flopped to the side. This took Vic alongside with him. You laughed at the action and crawled over to him.

All of your lower muscles ached with the movement. You stayed on your knees before the cuddling males. Yet, something caught your attention. Uihoy had knotted Vic but the younger Yautja’s cock was angry looking. He hadn’t come. That was something you had to fix.

As you reached out to help finish him off, a purple hand wrapped around your wrist. “Let Vic be alone. Punishment for not listening,” Uihoy grumbled. Vic’tao screeched out his disagreement and tried to break away from his hold. Uihoy wouldn’t allow this and secured him tightly to his chest.

“I guess he deserves it,” you agreed alongside with him and went to stand. Uihoy made a noise that had you stopping. The male moved his hips back, pulling his knot from Vic. Said Yautja groaned, talon flexing at the action.

Uihoy huffed then stood up and pointed a threatening finger at him. That meant for him to stay, both of you knew this.

It took a couple of minutes for him to return. You heard him before he had reentered the bedroom, a long chain in hand. A sinister smirk gracing your face. One already on the smaller Yautja’s features.

When Vic’tao saw this, he attempted to crawl back and making noises of complaint. “No, learn lesson. These will not break,” Uihoy stated firmly and caught the fleeing male before he could get far. The chains weren’t as prettily wrapped around the bulky Yautja but it did the job and restrained him. Arms tied behind his back and legs restricted.

The purple male came up to you and simply picked you up. “Bath?” he questioned. You nodded your head, happily to take a warm, relaxing bath with your lover. Well, one of them anyway.

As Uihoy carried you away, you peered over his shoulder and waved at Vic. “Better luck next time, babes.” Vic’tao snarled and pulled against his bonds but they barely even moved. The only reason you didn’t use those was they aren’t most comfortable. You wanted something comfortable and pretty.

Damn the both of them. Those ropes were hard to get and they had ruined them! You’ll figure some way to get back at them.

#yautja x human #yautja #yautja x you #yautja x reader #yautja x yautja #predator #male predator #male yautja #predator x reader #uihoy #vic'tao #more writing prompts #uihoy x vic'tao #yautja x reader x yautja #yautja smut #smut #predator smut

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wthtorke · 1 year

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Friendship

Gender Neutral Reader - No warnings! Seen in november on Patre0n

“What do you mean ‘accommodate them’? Look at the size of those brutes and look at my SHIP, for fuck’s sake!” You angrily whispered, eyes darting back and forth from your supervisor to the three, -very big-, yautjas that stood a few feet away from you.

“They’re going to escort you safely to Andromeda-, don’t make it difficult, this is their first mission, they’re like, teenagers-”

“TEENAGERS?”

“Young Adults! Young-, young adults-! That’s what I meant! They’re mature-, God, they’re SO mature, and they’re gonna protect you, I swear to God-”

“How old are they?” You asked, a hand on your hips as the other rested on the side of your well-loved, if not a little battered, spaceship.

“I-, I don’t know-, I hear they mature at a hundred years old? I have no idea how their calendar fucking works, but they’re at least um-, eighteen? Look-, our species have been collaborating for a while now, you’re going to be fine, there’s three of them-”

“One of them tried to fucking kill me!”

“That was a bad blood! That’s why we’re having these guys! Their um- dam? Their -mother- is the best bad-blood hunter out there so they must be amazing!”

“I’m going to die and come back to haunt your ass.”

“You’re not going to die, cause if you do, so will I-, so you’re NOT dying!” She sighed, putting her hands on your shoulders, “You saved our asses from an attack and now there are some bad bloods looking for your ass, I know you’re scared but these guys are good-, besides, the trip is….relatively short, you’ll be fine.”

You grimaced but nodded, “Alright...Well, we’re off soon...You know their names?”

“Actually…no.”

“Oh for fuck's sake.”

That was the conversation you last had with your supervisor, the one that left you to die before you managed to squish that bad blood under your cargo like a bug. Marvelous.

You had climbed aboard your ship, being told one last time that "They understand you, but they can't really speak English, OH! One of them is a girl-, good luck!"

“WHA-” You cut off as the hatch closed in front of you.

So now you had three yautjas in your ship, whose names you had no idea, who you could not communicate with, save for saying what you had to say and hoping for the best-, which wasn't all that great.

And you had a bad blood clan hot on your trail.

Amazing.

"Hey-, don't touch that, stop-, you’re going to scratch my ship! God-, what do I even call you? We gotta come up with names." You stressed, hitting the autopilot button before turning your chair to face the three "teenagers" standing there.

"Alright, one of you is- a female? Right? Which one?" You asked, watching them look at each other before the one on the left shrugged, grunting.

The biggest of the three, her skin was dark blue.

"You? Alright-, damn that's some girl power-, okay-, yall got names?" You asked again, receiving a series of clicks and rumbles coming from each one.

You sighed again, "If I'm in danger and I try to pronounce that I'll die choking, I'm afraid we need some um...codenames." You said, they shrugged again.

"Alright so, girl-, you're um-, Bubbie! Bub for short." She nods, crossing her arms, and you move to the next one. The middle one. The one grabbing your stuff.

"You-, kleptomaniac-, I'm calling you K'nuckles." You hissed as he shrugged, throwing your little stress ball up and down in his hand, talons threatening to rip it every time he caught it again.

"Which means you're Flap, my boy." You said, turning to the last one, he nodded. "Alright!" You turn back to your panel, switching the autopilot off again, "If anyone laughs at your codenames you have permission to maim them, period." You scoff, then thinking about it a second later, “Actually, don’t do that, I’d get fired-, now let's get to the candied island, yeah?”

“You named them after a canceled old-ass cartoon.”

“Well, when you put it like that- look, they absolutely love their names and I’m not even joking.” You shrug. “How?! They have names like Scar and- KNIFE and stuff, you know? I don’t know how you can just- call a 9-foot tall killing machine Bubble!”

“Yeah? Go ahead and try telling Bubbie her name ain’t Bubbie, I dare ya.” You say, watching your alien partner get up from her seat in the corner, growling already.

“Fuck no. Thank you.”

You smile and nod, “I told you she liked it.”

✨Here’s the patre0n link again✨

#idk man i loved that show #😭#yes this was posted in NOVEMBER lmao #i have sm content on that page yall have no idea #yautja #female yautja #Yautjas #The Predator #predator #predators #alien vs predator #Aliens vs predator #Alien #Aliens #alien relationship

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thelastspeecher · 2 months

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Uhhhh I couldn't think of a title, but here's the scene I've been working on in my Pollution Powers AU. I'd like to write more for it, and while I do have a few scenes in mind to write, let me know if there's anything in particular you have an interest in seeing!

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“Stay away from any syringes!” Ma Pines called after Stan and Ford. The boys waved at her as they raced down the beach. The day after a storm was the best to go beach combing. The water and wind tossed up some of the strangest things.

“Heck yes!” Stan crowed, coming to a stop by a patch of black sand. He dropped to his knees to examine it more closely. Ford, however, walked past, his eye grabbed by a small, oddly shaped object a few feet away. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands.

It’s like a dented cardboard box but made of metal. Ford frowned. I’ve never seen anything like this before. What could it be? The metal began to grow warm. It quivered in Ford’s grip, like it was attempting to escape. Ford’s eyes widened. He quickly threw it away as hard as he could. The object landed a foot away, exploding upon contact with the sand.

Ford winced.

I suppose I’m lucky that thing was wimpier than I am. Nothing even hit me! …Right? Ford quickly looked down at his legs and arms. Dangit. At the beach, the glass was as ubiquitous as the sand, and he could see some slivers of classic Glass Shard Beach glass shards poking out of his skin.

“Great,” Ford mumbled. He reached for a larger shard sticking out of his forearm. Before he could grab it, however, the shard quickly sunk below his skin, leaving no trace behind. Ford’s jaw dropped. He poked at the unbroken skin. It didn’t even hurt. “Um, Stan?” Ford squeaked out. Stan, still engrossed in the black sand, didn’t respond. Ford opened his mouth to try to get Stan’s attention further but was interrupted.

“Boys?” Ma Pines shouted. Stan sprang to his feet as Ma Pines ran up to them. “Sorry, sweethearts, but the beach is too dirty today for you to play.” She grabbed each boy and began to lead them back to the car.

“The beach is never too dirty,” Stan argued.

“Today it is,” Ma Pines said firmly. Ford looked back at the patch of sand disturbed by the explosive.

“I think,” Ford said slowly, “you are correct.”

-----

Ford’s eyes snapped open. The darkness of the room he shared with Stan was a stark contrast to the dream of that day on the beach. There was a faint dripping sound from somewhere. Ford dragged his hands down his face.

Not this again. He rolled onto his belly to peer over the side of the bed. In the dark, he could barely make out liquid dripping from the bottom bunk onto the floor. Fantastic. Ford grabbed a cheap magnet off the side of the metal bunk bed and threw it in the general vicinity of the bottom bunk.

“Wake up, Stan. You’re having another fucking wet dream.” The strange, bubbling snoring from the bottom bunk stopped.

“…Whoops,” Stan’s voice said. His words slurred a bit, as they tended to when he was in his inhuman form. Ford squinted. Without his glasses, Stan was blurry, but his twin appeared to be in human form again. At the very least, the dripping had stopped.

The slurring was likely from tiredness.

“You’ve been having those a lot lately,” Ford pointed out. Stan was the one to dub reverting to his oil form while asleep as having a wet dream. Ford, tickled, went along with it. “Do you have any theories as to this sudden uptick?”

“Uh, Teach thinks it’s ‘cause I’ve been spending so much time in oil form, practicing,” Stan said sleepily. “My body’s getting used to it as a normal thing or whatever.”

“Oh,” Ford said. He laid back in bed. “Well, you’ll have to kick that habit before we go back home. Mom won’t put up with you making that mess every night.” Stan was silent. “Did you fall back asleep?”

“No.” The bottom bunk creaked. “I, uh, I don’t know if I wanna go back home.” Ford frowned.

“What?”

“I don’t think I wanna go back home.”

“The day I arrived, you were going on and on about how much you miss the boardwalk and beach and…” Ford shook his head. “Why don’t you want to return home?”

“You saw how everyone reacted when my stupid power showed up,” Stan mumbled. Ford winced. Stan’s body had turned to oil in the middle of the school hallway while he was flirting with Carla McCorkle. Not only did every student nearby begin panicking, but Carla also dumped Stan before he could get out a single word. “And even when I was able to keep it under wraps enough to work in the shop and go back to school, everyone acted like I had the damn plague! No matter what, everyone knows what I am. And they’re never gonna treat me right ever again.”

“Rather hypocritical of you,” Ford muttered under his breath. The bottom bunk creaked again.

“What did you say?” Stan snapped.

“You’re being rather hypocritical!” Ford snapped back. “You speak of fearing mistreatment back home, but have no qualms with mistreating people here! People who are just like us!”

“Okay, wanna stop talking like you’re a professor and just tell me what you’re getting at?”

“The McGuckets!”

“What? I’ve never done anything to Fiddlesticks.”

“That’s a lie,” Ford scoffed. “Before his sister arrived to be the new punching bag, you constantly talked about how he wasn’t ‘enough of a freak’ to be here.”

“His power is mostly being smelly and dirty. That’s just what happens when you’re on a farm,” Stan said dismissively. “I didn’t say any of it to his face, anyways.”

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t notice,” Ford said. Stan huffed. “But I was primarily referring to his younger sister.”

“Angie probably doesn’t even have a power,” Stan muttered.

“Why would she be here if she didn’t?” Ford pointed out. “The Gravity Falls School for Contaminated Youth isn’t exactly a prestigious prep school, despite the administration’s best attempts.” Stan didn’t say anything. “I know you don’t really think Angie is a normie.”

At least, I hope you don’t.

“Fine. Maybe I don’t. But why hasn’t she used her power in front of everyone?”

“Not all powers are one’s default state! I’ve barely used my power in front of people! And I can’t imagine that the treatment from you and the company you keep is helping matters. She’s probably too overwhelmed to even attempt her power in front of everyone.”

“Oh, so this is all about me spending time with Jimmy, huh? You’re just being jealous?”

“No, this is about how you insult and degrade some poor girl after spending our entire lives defending me from the same behavior! Though, to be quite frank, I do think Jimmy’s influence on you has been a major factor in your bullying!” A familiar feeling spread across Ford’s skin, as though cold slime was slowly being poured onto him. Ford looked down at his hands. His skin had turned to glass, revealing the muscles, bones, and organs beneath.

Shit. Not again! Ford quickly scanned the room for something that he and Stan wouldn’t miss. His gaze landed on a discarded cardboard box they hadn’t thrown out yet, which their latest care package from Shermie had arrived in. Good enough.

“I don’t-” Stan started furiously. Before he could get out any other words, the cardboard box exploded, leaving a black charred stain on the carpet. “Did- did you just-”

“You know it happens when I get pissed off,” Ford muttered. The cold, slimy feeling faded as his skin returned to normal. Lights turned on in the hallway, followed by the sound of footsteps. Ford quickly rolled over, facing the wall. Stan began to emit loud, clearly fake snores. The door opened, spilling light into the room. After a few moments, the door closed again. Ford breathed a sigh of relief. The guards typically did the bare minimum, as was the case this time.

The light in the hallway turned off. Ford waited for Stan to stop snoring so they could resume their conversation. However, the cartoonish snoring continued. Ford scowled.

Really? Pretending to be asleep to avoid talking? He closed his eyes. Well, if he wants to be done, then we can be done.

#Stan arrives at the school before Ford and falls in with a bad crowd that acts as a negative influence #hence his negative behavior towards the McGucket siblings #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Gravity Falls #Gravity Falls AU #Pollution Powers AU #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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fallingintoyourlilaceyes · 7 months

Note

hi bestie do you take requests for Xavier Thorpe? If u do i have one for you I hope you don’t mind <33 so reader is a siren and she went to the art store to buy a canvas to practice her painting and ends up pumping into Xavier who’s buying paint cause he’s out and he asks her what she’s doing here and stuff so she tells him she’s looking for a canvas and he tells her that he didn’t know she was into arts and stuff so he takes her to pick a canvas size then tells her to go look for white paint because he’s out until he finds her the size she wants but he’s distracting her to go pay for her canvas and when she returns he tells her that he didn’t need white he just wanted to pay for her ( makes sense lol? ) and the next day she buys him art supplies and goes to his shed to thank him and he’s surprised and offers to teach her arts and stuff ( friends to lovers thing but in this they just have a crush on each other )

Hiya bestie, I feel like I got of track a bit from your ask, but I hope you still enjoy this. <3

A lesson in art

pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

synopsis: For as long as you could think there were two constants in your life. Aside from your parents and their support of course. Your passion for art and the way normies stared at you.

warnings: none

word count: 0.9k

For as long as you could think there were two constants in your life. Aside from your parents and their support of course. Your passion for art and the way normies stared at you. And since you had gotten into Nevermore those two things had conveniently enough mingled together more than ever. Thanks to the amulet that you had to wear to retain your powers it was plain to see for anyone in Jericho just what you were. As if they wouldn´t know it without. You shake your head and repress the urge to make a snarky comment as some old normie woman stares at you while you make your way through the provincial town to the local art supply store. Despite your passion for art, there was nothing you wanted to be over faster than these trips. If only you would have known who you would meet there you would have chosen to wait another day.

“I didn´t know you were into art.” Comes a voice you know all too well from behind you.

“Xavier, hey…” You are hesitant to turn around and greet him. His break up with Bianca had been messy to say the least and as her friend it was your duty to stick to her. You were shocked and hurt when she had told you the reason for the two of them splitting. You never would have thought he would be capable of saying such things about Sirens. Nonetheless your heart still beats higher when he smiles and waves at you. It always did. No matter how hard you had cursed it for doing so, even during his relationship with Bianca. Still none the wiser about his own heart acting in a similar fashion or the reddening of his cheeks whenever you were around.

“What are you looking for? Maybe I can help you find it.”

“Um… I need a canvas.” You let you’re your fingers play with each other.

“They are right over here. What size do you need?” Xavier asks while leading you to the corner where all the different sized canvases where displayed.

“18x24, preferably.” The tension that has built in your shoulders a minute ago dissipates slowly and you find it easier to talk to him.

Xavier grabs a canvas in the size you named and leads you back towards the cash register. He puts everything down on the counter and sighs, turning to you once more.

“Hey um, it´s kind of embarrassing, but I forgot to grab white paint. Would you mind getting it for me? You´re probably faster than me.”

“Yeah, sure. I´ll be back in a second.” Ou go to grab what he had asked you for, but when you return to the register not even a minute later he is gone.

“Your friend already paid. He´s waiting outside.” The sweet lady behind the counter tells you.

So you make your way outside. The little bell at the door making him turn towards you.

“I could have paid that for myself, you know?” There is a lightness to your tone, though you mean it.

“I know, but I wanted to be nice.” He simply says with that stupid, little signature half-grin of his.

So stupid and handsome. Wait, what? No, just stupid. You shook your head to get rid of those thoughts. They had plagued you ever since Bianca had told you all about them getting together. You knew back then you had to hold back your feelings for him and you know it now.

The two of you make your way back to the school in silence and once you arrive, part ways. Yet no matter how much time passes you can´t shake the guilty conscience. Leading to you going back into town the next day. With the help of the woman from the day before, you assemble a small collection of supplies. Bringing them to his shed where he unsurprisingly already was doing his thing. His unapologetically angsty music gave him away and so without knocking you open the door to find him painting.

“God, this music makes me feel like I am thirteen again, applying heavy eyeliner and posting about some pseudo deep shit on social media.” You make your presence known with a chuckle. The bag with the supplies hidden safely behind your back. Xavier turns around with a surprised look and turns the music off immediately.

“Hey, um, what are you doing here?” He quickly covers his canvas before you stand beside him.

“I got you a present.” You hold out the paper bag to him.

Xaviers eyes go wide as he unpacks the contents. “What? You didn´t need to do that…”

“I know, but I wanted to be nice.” You repeat his words from a day earlier with a mischievous smirk. “No, in all honesty I felt bad that you paid for my canvas and these are things that I thought you could always need. So, yeah, you know.”

You look at your feet, as heat once again spreads over your face.

“Well, thank you.” There is that half-smile again. “But now I feel bad, that must have cost a lot of money for you.”

Oh, no. It isn´t worth mentioning, really.” You insist.

“No, please. The least I could do to thank you is to buy you a coffee or give you an art lesson or something” He says.

“An art lesson from Nevermore´s resident tortured artist? How could I say no to that.” You chuckle.

“Meet me here tomorrow, after lunch. Is that alright with you?” Xavier laughs as well.

“It´s a date.” You say excitedly and this time you catch the reddening of his cheeks. Though you say goodbye and force yourself not to think about it too much as you make your way back to your dorm. You didn´t want to get your hopes up just yet.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe oneshot #wednesday netflix #wednesday netflix one shot

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ivy-is-fine · 7 months

Text

Murder Kratts

Part Four! Woah.

“I believe your human survival suits are in this closet,” Areos said, opening a door with one of the eldritch arms.

N shined the light in there, and there were indeed rows of equipment.

“Very good,” Tessa said.

“Thank you,” N added.

They went in there and each grabbed a piece of equipment. N was quite ready to get away from Areos, he was too much like Cyn with his movements.

“I could make oil tea!” Areos said cheerily. “You Murder Drones like that, yes? You should stay for a minute. I haven’t talked to anyone since the last eldritch attack which was a pretty long time ago.”

“Oil tea is not my thing,” Tessa said flatly. She was double checking the equipment to make sure it worked properly.

Areos’ expression fell a little. “Oh. Well… um… perhaps we could talk a little? Did you happen to run into the others? And could you tell me how you got in at all?”

N and Tessa looked at each other. Tessa looked back at Areos. “Sorry, we’re in a hurry.”

“Oh.”

N perked up. “Do you know anything about the absolute s—” He was cut off by a fleshy hand over his mouth.

Areos’ face was a scowl now. His many fingers were curled in anger. “Leave,” he said firmly.

N removed the hand from his face. “Wait— but we—”

“THERE IS NOTHING FOR THAT HERE,” Areos bellowed.

Tessa cocked her gun, aiming right at Areos. “You have to know something,” she said.

Areos’ arms were raised up high. N looked at Tessa. He would be able to survive being ripped apart, but the human would not, and he couldn’t stand to lose her too, so soon after V. “It only has one goal. To infect and destroy,” he said, fangs bared.

“Is there any way we could say… get rid of it? Or possibly disinfect someone who may or may not have it? Hypothetically?” N asked, taking a very quiet step backwards.

“HA. HA! Magnets and death, bud,” he said. “The latter is obviously more effective. No host, no power.”

Tessa looked at N. He didn’t look back. He knew what she was thinking, and he didn’t want to think about it. He couldn’t lose Uzi too. Not after ten minutes after V DID NOT die. She was simply killing the rest of the sentinels to make an easier escape later.

But his hopes of that were growing slimmer and slimmer.

“Let’s get these to Chris and Martin then,” Tessa said as if N wasn’t going through emotional turmoil right now.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly.

Areos’ arms sunk back down to rest on the surrounding environment. “If you see Alice, tell her I say hello. I do think I would like to speak with her again,” he said, much more solemn this time. One of his arms rested on the doorway. His normal arms didn’t appear to function.

N winced. He felt bad. There was no way she could still be alive after the release of the sentinels. He felt even worse leaving Areos sitting down here waiting, all alone. “I don’t think she’s… you know… with the sentinels loose…” he said.

Tessa had been shaking her head and hands frantically the entire time he spoke, sighing at the end.

There was a small sound coming from Areos, starting as a small whimper before it gradually gathered volume into a loud wail. He fell onto his knees, arms grabbing onto everything around him; the doorway, desks, and himself.

“I think we should leave now, N,” Tessa said, as if she were growing impatient with him.

N nodded, feeling horribly guilty, as Areos buried his face in those human hands, starting to sob.

The two of them hurried back, flew over the hole and passed the suits to Chris and Martin. Martin was holding a finger and wincing. “Does she usually bite?” He asked, indicating towards Uzi.

“Bite me!” She snapped. Well at least she’s feeling a bit more like herself, N thought. Though it also may have been her trying to cope.

The brothers got into the bulky suits. Chris took a deep breath of relief. “Wow, I can breathe now!” Their faces could be seen through the helmet, unlike Tessa’s.

From the corridor the fivesome could hear the wailing. N felt a bit too compelled to go back into that darkness with Areos and cry with him.

That sounded pretty nice, actually. Put all of this on pause for a bit. Forget all of this for a bit.

“Magnets, huh?” Tessa mused, looking at Uzi.

Uzi glared at Tessa. “Yeah? So? They blocked the Solver while V and I were with Alice,” her voice started breaking and she looked away. N wanted to reassure her somehow. He patted her head slowly, and instead of slapping his hand away like she did last time, she dropped her head against his side.

They were both blushing profusely. Chris and Martin looked at them, slightly amused. Tessa was not amused. But at least she didn’t say anything. She just crossed her arms. “Let’s get some magnets or whatever and repel it or something,” she said.

“There was a bucket of magnets back there,” N said. “I could grab a few.” Tessa nodded and he hurried back, Areos’ sobbing fainter now, also followed by the harsh scraping of either nails or metal.

N grabbed two, both sticking to his hands. He returned. I could try lightening the mood, he thought. That might help.

He took a magnet off of his hand and stood in front of Uzi. “I compel thee!” He declared, sticking the magnet on her face.

She giggled, but only a little bit. She tested it, and the solver glitched away. “I guess that’ll hold for now,” she said. Until I have to kill you. Well, you or the rest of the world, N thought. “What even is that noise?” She asked in her usual brash tone.

N looked over at the doorway. “It’s a mutated worker drone named Areos. He’s part eldritch or something with those inky arms.”

Uzi considered that for a moment.

“Well now that we have the suits and the magnets, we can go on,” Tessa said, giving N another look. She knew that he was postponing the inevitable.

“So. The magnets. What’s up with that?” Chris asked. Martin was twisting and untwisting the battery cap of his flashlight.

“They apparently mess up the Absolute Solver’s connection, so it should stop her from getting all messed-up again,” Tessa explained. “And the Solver is a recurring problem, so far it has destroyed Earth and sent this planet into an eternal winter.” She still sounded like she was hiding something.

“Earth is destroyed?” Martin asked, eyes wide.

Tessa flinched. “Then where have you been for the past so many years?!”

“EARTH!” The brothers said in horrified unison as the group walked on.

N couldn’t help but notice the massive craters in the walls, and the eldritch Disassembly Drone pieces scattered around were not reassuring.

“Alice did say that they’ve dealt with those mutated ones before,” Uzi said, punting a robot’s head at the wall, where it was speared on a twelve foot long claw.

N wanted to hold her hand, except he was scared that if he did he would have to cut that one off too. It was also blazing hot compared to what he was used to, and he was wary that his system might overheat soon.

He looked over his shoulder, where the elevator sat at the end of the hallway. It was the only light in the hall.

It flickered, and for just a millisecond, a many-armed silhouette stood with arms outstretched.

He blinked and it was gone.

<- Part Three Part Five ->

#murder drones #murder kratts #wild kratts #kratt drones

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novankenn · 1 year

Text

"Jaune Gets a Gun AU" Starship Troopers : MI Power Armour

Inspired by @howlingday's weapon posts.

Jaune chuckled as Ruby pouted about having been caught having impure thoughts about her first friend at Beacon. They pair started to pass past a fairly large booth when...

????: Hey! You two! I noticed you looking about, check out what the Mobile Infantry has to offer!

Jaune and Ruby turned a little shocked to be called out. What greeted them was a well weathered, and scared man... oozing authority.

Ruby: Can we help you?

Rico: No, the question is... Can I help you?

Jaune: (Confusion obvious on his face) I don't follow.

Rico: It's a couple questions, I have for you.

Ruby: Question? I don't think...

Jaune: It would be impolite not to at least listen to the questions.

Rico: Good man. First, take a look and tell me what you think of MI Power Armour?

Jaune: That looks pretty cool, actually? How much?

Ruby: Jaune? You already have armour! We're only here to find you a ranged option.

Jaune: But look at it! I mean it covers even more of my body, it has a rocket launcher, and a mini-gun on shoulder mounts!

Rico: (Chuckling) That's not all.

Jaune: It has a JET PACK!

Ruby: Jaune... that is NOT grimm in that picture.

Jaune: Ruby... rocket launcher... mini-gun... jetpack... this is so cool.

Ruby: (Sighing) You said you had two questions for us. What's the second one?

Jaune: Who cares! Where can I purchase this armour?

Rico: We can provide it to you FREE of charge... just sign this.

Rico hands Jaune and Ruby tablets, featuring minuscule text and fingerprint scanners.

Jaune: What's all this?

Rico: Just a simple service contract.

Ruby looks at Rico suspiciously, but before she can act, Jaune presses his thumb against the scanner. The beep that sounds, causes Ruby's mind to fill with dread.

Jaune: So?

Rico: Welcome to the Mobile Infantry, citizen.

Jaune: Huh? Citizen? I'm already a citizen of Va...

Rico: There are NO VALEANS in my Army! Just Troopers! Camacho! Trig! We have a new recruit... get him geared up!

Ruby makes a grab for Jaune as two armoured woman step out of the back area and hook their arms under Jaune's arms, lifting his feet from the floor.

Ruby: Jaune! You can't do this! This is not right... it's... it's... a Vacuoing!

Jaune: Um, where are we going?

Rico: Training, and then we take the fight to the Bugs!

Jaune: Bugs? You mean Grimm, right?

Rico: No Trooper... Bugs. It's a Good Day to Die.

Jaune starts to futilely struggle as Ruby watches in horror as Jaune is carried towards the curtained off area of what she now could see was a recruiting booth.

????: General.

Rico: Yes? Headmaster?

Ozpin: Please let my student go.

Rico: He signed...

Jaune/Ruby: Thank the brothers!

Ozpin: I know he did, yet he still has three years of training at my school to complete. Which means you can't as Ms Rose so eloquently put it... Vacuo him.

Jaune/Ruby: Yes!

Rico: I see, he's a student. Trig. Comacho put him down. My apologies Headmaster... I'll get a 12-40-A to release him...

Ozpin: That will not be necessary.

Ruby/Jaune: Huh?

Ozpin: This is a valuable lesson for you, Mr Arc. Always read before signing. So General three years and you can return to pick him up.

Rico: Understood. See you on the bounce, sir.

Rico, Trig and Camacho all salute the headmaster before leaving.

Ruby: You can't!

Jaune: Headmaster?

Ozpin: You signed a contract, Mr Arc... and what are contracts?

Jaune: (Suddenly filled with dread) A legally agreed to promise.

Ozpin: Correct. So for all intents and purposes you gave your word to serve as a member of the United Federation's Mobile Infantry.

Jaune: And an Arc never breaks their word.

Ruby was panicking, thinking about Jaune facing whatever those things were in the second picture... but more importantly... what Pyrrha was going to do to her when she found out. As she was going through her crisis, Ozpin gently patted Jaune on his shoulder.

Ozpin: I'll leave you two to enjoy the rest of your day.

Ozpin walks into the crowd and vanishes.

Jaune: (Notices Ruby's terror filled face) Ruby, are you okay?

Ruby: (Hyperventilating) I'm so dead... no, I'm more than just dead... I'm dead, dead, and dead again!

(I'm trying... again, I think @howlingday has much better posts. But eh, well it's either sit on these and let them drive me insane... or let them out. Hope you enjoyed.)

#jaune arc #ruby rose #starship troopers #headmaster ozpin #johnny rico #jaune gets a gun au

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pocketramblr · 3 months

Note

I want to know how all might reacts to reincarnated afo!aizawa

Like I think All Might would understand that Aizawa doesn't remember his villainous past, and has essentially been reborn, but the fact that afo somehow managed to get away with it (in a matter of speaking at least) must be like one of those forbidden itches from another dimension: forever vexing him

So All Might doesnt find out about this until Aizawa goes to him himself a few months after the worst of it, which is important because the reaction is defintely something that would vary based on when and how he learned it.

As it is, Aizawa goes to Might Tower and is like "Hey, I'm a UA student, Nedzu emailed All Might and said why he needed to see me, if he hasn't checked it tell him its about All For One." and is quickly sent up to talk. All Might is confused about the why- this kid is like, sixteen, AfO could have been dead before he was born.

But then Aizawa sighs, and says "I was born on the day you killed All For One," which means he knows way more information than he should, and All Might listens even when the kid immediately seems to go off topic by explaining that he's always wanted to be a hero, even though erasure is a weak quirk, and he knew he wouldn't be able to be a hero like All Might. Then he gets to the Garvey fight, and very quietly says that when he tried to erase the villain, he stole one of his quirks instead. All Might looks at the boy's palms, and sees.

But he doesn't quite see the truth yet.

"You're All For One's son." He breathes.

Shouta shakes his head. "No. Worse. I was born the day you killed him, right? Well, the hospital I was born at, there was a doctor that worked for AfO. Tried to save his life. Couldn't. So AfO ordered him to grab a baby, and transfered his quirk... to me." All Might relaxes, because that is tragic, but easier to deal with- "And then, I guess, they lost me? Not sure, but um, after Gravey, i went to the hospital and the Doctor kept messing with me. He was giving me more of All For One's quirks... and his memories. And i- it was so stupid, I went in there alone, and now... it's all there. in me."

All Might is no longer relaxed. He stares at the kid. Miserable, Aizawa holds out a hand, and a spike shoots out from it. One All Might remembers going into his chest, and he flinches.

Aizawa puts his hand down.

"I can't figure it out."

"Can't figure what out?" All Might asks.

"I can't figure out if I'm more me or more him now. I mean, I feel like I'm in charge. But he's been alive a lot longer, even if so much of those memories a blur. And, logically, even if he isn't in my head, his memories have to affect me. I mean, i knew going alone was stupid, but all those memories of his power, his pride, i ignored it and went anyway. I can't figure out what it means to know all of this now, who I am or what I should do."

All Might nods. He feels such pity for the boy, such grief he didn't prevent this. caused it, even, really. "And you came to me?"

"Yeah. You're the person alive who's known All For One the longest, except Gran Torino and I didn't know how to find him." The teen shrugs. "You'd be the one to know if he's... you know, if i'm him. You'd be the one to stop him."

All Might stares at him, not moving, not speaking. Aizawa beings to twitch despite himself.

"You trusted me to fix this." He finally says. "Yeah, there's no way in hell All For One's in charge of your brain then. You're safe, kid. You might have the memories, but i take it you hate the guy in them?"

"More than anything. You're sure? It makes sense that i could be influenced-"

"Young Aizawa. You're safe. I am sure. And if that changes, i'll make sure to help you. I am here."

Aizawa goes nearly boneless on the couch. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'm guessing you'd feel better if you were doing something about it, though?"

"Huh?"

"You're a hero. You feel better when you're doing something."

"Yeah. What do you have in mind?"

"Let's see if any of your new old memories can help us weed out anyone else who could be planning something like the Doctor was, and then come up with some plans to use all those quirks in you now for good."

Aizawa smiles for the first time in weeks. It is a terrifying smile, but it is absolutely nothing like All For One's too-calculated smirk. All Might smiles back.

#see the thing is. aizawa does have lot of the memories unlocked after the doc is done with them #not as bad as it couldve been and afo is super not in charge #(since he got afo-quirk as a baby his body kinda overwrote the vestige in the same way the original stockpile vestige got overwrote by ofa)#(and there wasn't enough time to even start transplanting another afo vestige in to take over)#but it is a lot. and aizawa is both a depressed teenager and someone who tries to cope with logic #and what is the difference really between having memories because you did it or because they were planted?#so he's not having a great time #(note: he did not got to garaki alone because of afo influence or anything like that. that was just dumb teen moment and not wanting anyone #else hurt again)#but yeah All Might is going to be very uneasy for a time #not because of shouta specificlly (tho pleeeenttty of guilty feelings there)#but also because it *could* be done. so how does he know there isn't another person it's happening to and afo will really take them over an #be back?#he doesn't #like shouta he'll feel better over actually doing stuff about it #meanwhile shouta is. look he's gunning to dump a lot of those quirks asap he does not do great with ghosts in his head #but they'll figure things out thatll help both of them. have a weird dynamic. closer but also kind bitter. not 'bitter towards each other'#but 'bitter together' ig #anon #pocket talks to people

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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 2 years

Text

Beyond Rumours

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Chapter Twelve

Summary: Y/n is a Malfoy. A Pureblood. A pretentious, blood-status-loving Slytherin. At least, those are the rumours, but since when has Remus Lupin ever really cared about rumours?

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: heyy. how’s it going?

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Y/N MALFOY

Thursday, 3rd of November 1997

"Hey, wake up."

I groaned as I opened my eyes. It was still dark outside, the sun barely a smudge on the horizon.

"I need more sleep," I mumbled.

"Y/n," Lily chided. "It's Sirius's birthday. We have to give him his presents."

I sighed and reluctantly got out of bed. Lily was still in her pyjamas, and she held a neatly wrapped box in her hands. I grabbed my own present from my bedside table and walked with her to the boys' dorm, where she knocked quietly.

"Oh, good, Evans, Malfoy, you're here," James whispered as he opened the door and let us inside.

Four of the five occupants of the dorm were up, leaving just Sirius sleeping soundly in his bed.

"Ready?" Remus whispered. "Three... two... one..."

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" everyone yelled.

Sirius snorted awake, his head swivelling in all directions before his eyes landed on us. He grinned widely before stretching.

"Give a man a warning, would ya?" he said halfway through a yawn. "Nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Happy birthday, you prat," James said with a laugh, handing him his present.

Sirius took it and opened it, and the rest of our presents followed. Sirius liked every one of them and made a massive mess of the wrapping paper, which Remus cleaned up with his wand. After a few more minutes of talking, Lily and I left to get dressed, before meeting everyone in the common room. The sun had started to actually rise now, and morning light streamed in through the windows. There were students already heading down to breakfast.

"Ready to go?" James asked once everyone arrived.

We all walked down to breakfast, but paused at the doors of the Great Hall.

"In you go, mate," James said.

Sirius looked at him with suspicion in his eyes, but walked into the Great Hall. Instantly confetti flew into the air and balloons floated down from the ceiling, causing the students already in the room to look around in confusion.

"All for me?" Sirius asked, wiping a fake tear from his eye.

We sat down at the Gryffindor table. Regulus and I had been sitting here ever since we left the Slytherin common room. The other Slytherins glared at us, but we ignored them.

The Marauders began to sing 'happy birthday' obnoxiously loudly, with people from other tables joining in. Sirius grinned throughout the whole thing.

Unfortunately we couldn't skip our classes for the day, but we did sing happy birthday again at lunchtime, before heading to Potions.

"Now, can anyone tell me what this potion is?"

I looked at the concoction on Slughorn's desk. It had a distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rose from it in characteristic spirals. I raised my hand and Slughorn nodded at me.

"Amortentia, sir," I answered. "It is the most powerful love potion in the world. It makes the drinker experience intense infatuation or obsession. It smells different to everyone, depending on the things that attract us."

"Yes, very good! Ten points to Slytherin," Slughorn boomed. "Now, are you willing to share what you can smell with the class?"

I was about to say no, when James shoved me forward, and Sirius started applauding, saying something about it being another birthday present. I scowled at them both, but Slughorn took that as a yes, because he gestured for me to move closer to the cauldron. I let the aroma fill my senses before answering.

"Er, I smell chocolate–" (Sirius let out a snort at that) "–books, freshly mown grass, and... um..."

I trailed off and stepped back as I realised the last smell was Remus. Slughorn clapped his hands and continued talking to the class. I looked over at Remus to see him already looking at me, his face slightly pink. He looked away quickly as he met my gaze, and I saw Lily grin at him.

After class we headed up to the Gryffindor common room, and James herded Sirius into the dorms while the rest of us quickly set up for a party. Remus and Peter left and came back with tons of food, and soon enough Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were arriving, as well as some of the nicer Slytherins, such as Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark.

We waited at the base of the stairs while Peter scurried off to let James know he and Sirius could come back down, and we all yelled, 'happy birthday!" when Sirius came into view. He grinned at the surprise and joined the party quickly.

The party was honestly a blast, and much better than the boring, stuffy and formal ones I had back home. Here, everyone was allowed to go wild, and games were played and drinks were drunk. I nursed a cup of butterbeer as I scanned the crowd, and my eyes landed on Remus. He was speaking to some pretty Gryffindor sixth-year, and I felt a twinge of jealousy. However, he looked around the room and spotted me before saying something to the Gryffindor girl and heading over to me.

"Hey, Y/n," he greeted with a smile. "Enjoying the party?"

I nodded.

"Not as bad as I thought it would be," I admitted. "I expected someone to have broken something already."

My words were followed by a loud crash, and Remus and I stared at each other for a moment before laughing loudly.

"Spoke too soon," I grinned.

Remus opened his mouth to speak when someone bumped into him, causing him to stumble back a bit. The person disappeared as soon as they'd appeared, and Remus rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his butterbeer.

"How rude," he muttered.

"Right?" I scoffed. "They could have at least apologised."

Remus nodded and swallowed before he suddenly froze, his eyes going wide and his pupils dilating. He fixed his gaze on me, and some sort of relaxed expression washed over his face.

"Y/n," he sighed happily, moving closer to me.

"Yes?" I replied slowly, looking up at him in confusion.

"I love you," he announced.

I blinked quickly, wondering if I'd heard him right, because there was absolutely no way I had.

"Excuse me?" I squeaked, my voice raising way too many octaves.

"I. Love. You," Remus said, punctuating every word with a blink that seriously scared the hell out of me.

"Um... sure..." I replied, patting him on the arm, not sure what was happening.

Was this a prank of some sort? Why would he do this? Remus wasn't the type of guy to mess with a person's feelings, even if it was just for a practical joke. He lifted his butterbeer and drank, smiling goofily at me.

"Is there something in your drink?" I asked.

Remus shrugged and handed it to me, and I got the feeling that he would do anything I asked, even if it included something completely crazy, like throwing himself off the Astronomy Tower. It freaked me out, so I took a sniff of the drink, and I felt the blood drain from my face. I didn't smell butterbeer. I smelt chocolate, books, freshly mown grass, and Remus.

"Oh my Merlin," I gulped, staring at the cup. "You just drank a love potion."

"No, no," Remus assured, resting his head on my shoulder, "my love for you is not synthetic. It's real."

"O-kay," I said, trying to get him to stand up properly, which was a difficult feat, as he had decided my shoulder was the best place to rest his head, even though he was a giraffe and was actually really heavy.

"Alright, I think we need to get you out of here," I decided, grabbing his wrist and trying to tug him along. "Let's find Lily, I'm sure she can help."

Remus hummed and slipped his hand into mine, interlacing our fingers. The action alone was enough to make my brain stop and my heart explode, but I pushed the feeling away and pulled him through the crowd, trying to find Lily. I spotted the red-head on a couch, deep in conversation with James, and honestly looking like she was going to kiss him in the next minute. Had it been any other time, I would have left the two alone, but the boy trying to proclaim his love to me at every given chance was a serious problem.

"Sorry to interrupt," I said anxiously, "but Lily, I require your help."

Lily turned to me, her cheeks pink, and her eyes widened as she beheld Remus attempting to gain my attention by pinching my cheeks. I swatted his hand away but he just grabbed my face and squished, causing me to scowl.

"Help me," I pleaded. "I think he drank a love potion."

"Wait, what?" James said, standing up. "Moony, you drank a love potion?"

Remus scrunched up his face.

"Of course not," he scowled. "My love for Y/n is genuine, obviously."

"Okay," Lily said hurriedly, also rising from her seat on the couch. "Let's go make a remedy."

Remus frowned at them but I tugged him along, and he was happy to follow. Somehow, Sirius, Peter, and Regulus found us and were quickly informed of the situation. All our friends dropped everything to come help – even Sirius, and it was his birthday party that we were missing.

We walked down and through the castle, all the way to Slughorn's office. We knocked and there was a, 'Just a second!' before the door opened to reveal our Potions professor.

"It's four minutes until curfew," Slughorn scolded. "What are you seven doing here?"

"Please, Professor," James insisted, "Remus... he's had a love potion, and he's totally obsessed with Y/n now."

Slughorn's eyes widened as he beheld Remus tucking my hair behind my ear before ushering us all inside. Slughorn got to work immediately, and Remus stayed by my side, playing with my hands and the rings I wore.

"Where are these from?" Remus asked.

"They're family heirlooms," I answered. "I wear them because they look cool."

"I want to give you a ring," Remus sighed happily.

Everyone went silent, except Slughorn, who chuckled.

"Yes, a love potion will do that to you," he chortled.

"Can we get married?" Remus pleaded, getting down on one knee.

"Woah, there," I said with a nervous laugh, trying to pull him up. "None of that."

"Alright, boy, drink this up," Slughorn commanded, handing Remus a cup of clear, colourless liquid.

Remus eyed the cup warily and then me. I nodded encouragingly, and that was all it took before he downed it in one go. His hand loosened on mine as his eyes went wide, and I stepped back.

"Oh my..." Remus whirled around the room, his eyes so wide they might have fallen out of his head. "What did... did that just happen?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, playing with the rings on my fingers.

"Oh my... Y/n, I am so sorry, I didn't–"

"It's fine," I interjected, waving his apology away. "No harm done."

There was harm done, but that didn't matter. It wasn't physical, just emotional, and besides, I knew how to repress that stuff. Remus looked at me with some sort of emotion that I couldn't place, and he opened his mouth to speak but Slughorn beat him to it.

"Yes, well, it's time for you all to go back to your dorms," Slughorn ordered. "I don't want you seven caught out of bed."

After a few choruses 'of course, Professor', we all left the office, heading to the Gryffindor common room. James and Sirius were laughing at Remus's 'advances' on me while Remus blushed bright red, and it made me feel really bad about the whole situation. He'd been infatuated with me, which I was sure made him uncomfortable. I mean, I was completely not his type, I was sure. He'd probably want someone else, someone smarter, someone prettier, someone funnier...

When we reached the common room, the party was still in full swing, so I feigned tiredness and headed to the girls' dorms. Someone caught my wrist before I could go upstairs, and I turned back to see Remus looking at me with guilt in his eyes.

"Y/n, I am really sorry," he apologised. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just – I don't know, everything was you, and I couldn't think past it–"

"It's fine," I repeated. "I – I know you didn't mean it. Goodnight."

Remus looked like he might want to say something else, but he simply let go of my wrist and murmured his farewells. I entered the dorms and flopped onto my bed, my heart feeling heavy.

Of course he didn't mean it. That was the problem. I'd wanted him to mean it – I wasn't in love with him, but I definitely liked him a lot, and the prospect of him loving me one day was just so inviting. I couldn't deny that I'd enjoyed it – I'd liked him loving me, even if there was a dark cloud reminding me that it was fake. It showed me a dream that could never come true – not with my hateful family, and our blood-statuses.

But the fact that he'd never love me for real?

That's what hurt the most.

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vanoincidence · 5 months

Text

Do You Believe in Magic? || Van & Milo

TIMING: current LOCATION: sly slice. PARTIES: @escudofracturado & @vanoincidence SUMMARY: milo visits van at work and they have a conversation about magic. CONTENT: sibling death tw, parental death tw, suicidal ideation tw.

Since learning that Van worked there, Milo had been avoiding going to Sly Slice. After their disastrous initial meeting and the awkwardness at the party he had been invited to at her house, he hadn't been keen on the idea of running into the girl. However, after a bit of messaging back and forth, it seemed that things were kinda okay now? Maybe? At least, as okay as they could be when she knew that he knew that she had been involved in a murder. It was definitely kind of a weird vibe, but it was better than her being scared and pissed at him, and melting everything around her.

Also better? She seemed to be coming to terms with the fact that she had magic. Hopefully that meant she'd be up to learning and training soon, because it was clear that her magic had the potential to be incredibly dangerous. With power like hers, she needed to learn how to control it before… well, before she landed herself into a situation like the one that had destroyed Milo's life.

He slowed as her rolled up to the pizza spot, grabbing his board as he went. Upon entering, he quickly noticed a familiar face, and gave her an awkward little wave. “Hey.”

—

Van wasn’t sure why she had invited Milo to visit her at Sly Slice. She’d been so busy and stressed out with the expo that working at the actual shop was a means for relaxation, all things considered. She didn’t want to be afraid of everything, much less Milo. Nobody else seemed concerned with him, even if she still felt like she couldn’t trust him completely.

Maybe there was something else the others knew that she didn’t. Honestly, she couldn’t be sure, and what was the point in recoiling from it? She’d already melted things in front of Nora, Cass, and Ariadne, among others. If she didn’t figure out what was going on, something like what happened with Diana might happen again, and Van didn’t want that to happen.

So when the door opened, Van braced herself for the tension that came with the majority of their meetings (even those online), but there was something different now. Maybe it was acceptance on Van’s part. She raised a hand in greeting, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips in an attempt to be friendly.

The anxiety that usually bubbled up, creating an effect where she needed to clear her throat one too many times was absent, so at least that was good. “Hey. You just missed the lunch rush so uh, good… on you.” She clasped her hands together, not sure what else to say. Van looked over her shoulder towards the back window wondering if Jett would make a mistake that she’d need to fix. Rocky really needed to hire more people.

“Do you um– want a slice? It’s on the house.”

—

She smiled at him, which was definitely a new development. Maybe things were really starting to become okay? He wasn't sure, but this was a nice change of pace from their previous interactions, at least. He chuckled, his smile turning somewhat crooked, ”Right, thanks, I totally did that on purpose.”

The offer took him a little by surprise, but it seemed that they were both making an effort here, and that was something. ”Oh, I mean, if that's cool.“ Milo had been planning on getting a slice anyway, and he wasn’t one to say no to free food. And certainly not when it seemed like kind of a peace offering. Maybe?

”Are you still on the clock?“ He didn't want to get her in trouble or anything if her manager happened to be a hard ass or something. ”I can, like, fuck off for a bit if you are.“ Or just in general, honestly. He really didn't want her to feel nervous around him. He was just an idiot who spoke without thinking, his desperation making him do something as stupid as confront someone you had definitely just seen cover up a murder. Honestly, he was lucky she hadn't melted him, especially knowing now that she had no information or control over her abilities.

—

“Did you?” She didn’t realize he was kidding, so she quickly amended, “right, you totally did.” Van didn’t know where to look. At him, at the register, at her hands… she wanted to be polite, needed to be, considering he was one of the only people who knew what the fuck she was going through. He had mentioned something about himself being scared, too, but she wasn’t sure why. He’d known about his magic for quite some time now, whereas she was just being introduced to its world.

“Yeah, no, totally cool. I get free slices, so like, it’s my lunch for you, but it’s not stale or anything.” She bit the inside of her cheek, and with a deep breath she turned around to the warming rack before grabbing a paper plate from the shelf. “Which kind did you want? I can grab you two. Um, we only have four kinds, but I think you knew that already…”

At his question, she shrugged, “yeah, but it’s no big deal. Rocky doesn’t actually care if people come and hang out as long as I’m making sales.” This wasn’t a sale, but not that that mattered.

—

He smiled at her, trying to push through the awkward energy surrounding the interaction. Milo wasn’t quite sure how to prove to her that he didn’t mean any harm to her or her friends– if there even was anything that he could do aside from just wading through it. Or rather, talking through it. He was good at that, at least.

“Yeah, I came with Ariadne once,” he nodded. And then he’d avoided the shop because of their disastrous encounter. “Not to be the obnoxious New Yorker, but, like, I was surprised how good it was? There are a lotta places that don’t really hold up. And, like, pizza is pizza, and I will eat any of it, but never know what to expect in other places.” Mmmm… that was maybe too much talking. “But, uh, pepperoni, please?”

It was good to hear that her boss was chill, though. “Oh, that’s really cool. As long as I’m not gonna get you into any trouble– I know some managers have absolutely zero chill,” he grinned. “But you wanted to talk about stuff, right?” Milo looked around the shop, checking to see if there was anyone within earshot, but it seemed he had, indeed, missed the lunch rush, as there weren’t many people there.

—

Obviously Milo knew Ariadne. That made sense. They’d all been at the same party, even if Ariadne had been more concerned with being close to Wynne. That was fine, though. Van could understand it, it was a new relationship, and if she ever let herself love again, then maybe she would have been the same way. She didn’t for-see that happening, though.

Her mind wandered, as it always did, and she snapped back into the reality that was Milo standing across from her telling her what kind of pizza he preferred. “I’ve been to New York! The pizza is really good there.” She didn’t like to think about her summers in the city, all they brought were bad memories. “But Sly Slice is good, too. I think Rocky is from New York, that might be why.” She didn’t actually know if that were the truth or not.

She nodded at his requested and plated up two slices of pepperoni pizza before turning back to him. This was so weird. If this were a few months ago, Van would have gone running for the hills, desperate to evade the one who knew they killed Debbie. The one who knew she had magic.

“Nah, no you’re not.” Maybe. Sometimes Rocky was cool, sometimes he was weird. She pushed the paper plate towards him across the counter before bundling up a few napkins and sliding those across, too. At his question, she tensed. That was why she had asked him here, he was right.

She nodded slowly, wringing her hands together. She looked past him towards the door. “I know we.. um, we talked a little bit online about it, but…” Van took a deep breath before motioning towards a table nearest the register. If somebody came in, she could get up and easily go and assist them.

Van took a seat, crossing her ankles together against one of the chair legs. She waited for Milo to sit down before she started speaking, trying to keep her composure, or what was left of it.

“I… you remember what I did at the Common? That keeps happening, but like, a lot. I keep getting scared or upset or angry and it keeps happening and I don’t know how to make it stop. I want it to stop.” She paused, uncertain of how to proceed, “is… is there a way to get rid of it? Magic, I mean.”

—

“Oh, cool! Were you, like, on a trip or something?” He assumed Rocky was the chef. Or maybe the owner. Both? Either way, he was grateful that there was a fellow New Yorker doing the lord’s work here. It would’ve been a bummer if the pizza here wasn’t good. “That makes sense,” Milo nodded. “Props to Rocky, then.”

Okay, that was good. The last thing he needed was to get Van in trouble just as they were trying to come to a truce.

“Thanks.” He flashed her a smile, hoping his sincerity came through.

Following her over to the nearby table, he sank into the seat across from her, taking a quick bite of his pizza while she gathered her thoughts. He most definitely remembered what she did at the Common– he hadn’t exactly been expecting her to make her lunchbox evaporate or turn a bird feeder into a pile of molten plastic. He hadn’t known what to expect, hadn’t even thought it through before opening his mouth.

But this, he had expected. It was the same conversation that they’d been having online, after all.

“I’m sorry,” he frowned. While he couldn’t entirely understand what Van was going through, he certainly empathized with feeling out of control and worried about what he was capable of– now more than ever.

“It’s… scary, not being in control. Especially with that kind of power.” Everything he’d read and learned about elemental magic was that it was difficult, temperamental, and, especially for those with an affinity for fire, it could be incredibly destructive. The most Milo could manage was a small flame. It was a party trick more than anything, helpful in the moments he couldn’t find a lighter. But even that was difficult to maintain, to tame. And if he tried now… Well, he wouldn’t try now. That was beside the point, though.

“I–” he inhaled, trying to think of how to phrase this all delicately. “I’ve never heard of any way to get rid of it. I… don’t know if it’s even possible. To be fair,” he added, “I don’t know that it’s not. But, I would imagine that it would be difficult to do. And probably really dangerous.” His mind flashed to Alistair, to healing and necromancy– even mind magic– in general. Manipulating, messing, with living beings like that was risky, and it always had a price. “Your abilities, they’re a part of you. And trying to get rid of them– it seems like there’s a lot that could go wrong there.” He bit his lip, not wanting to say the wrong thing and, god forbid, upset her.

He had always seen his magic as a gift, something that made him special and powerful, something that he could do good with. However, he had grown up knowing the truth of magic, he had been learning and practicing for basically his whole life. It was a wildly different experience from what Van had been going through all by herself, not fully understanding or believing what was going on. And her magic– her emotions– being so destructive had to be a massive struggle. It was something every caster he knew struggled with, keeping their emotions under control, the knowledge that something could go incredibly wrong if you didn’t.

It felt wrong offering to help her find a way to rid herself of her magic, but that wasn’t his choice to make.

“But we could try to look into it more,” he said, finally. “In the meantime, though, I think you need to try to learn how to control it more.”

—

“I um, I had family there that I’d visit.” Van clasped her hands together, pushing both thumbs against each other. Did her grandma even still live there? Had she moved? Did she leave her apartment in Flushing to avoid Van if she ever visited? There were an endless amount of questions that Van had about her grandmother, but none of which Milo would be able to answer, so she pulled herself from the thought by straightening up in her chair. Something about physically changing your position to help ease anxiety– it was something she learned in her few weeks of therapy and she genuinely hoped it would work in this case.

Milo apologized, and Van tried to absorb it, as if it might make a difference. Instead, she only felt a little empty.

Unfortunately, Milo didn’t seem to have an answer for her question– at least, not the kind of answer she was hoping for. Van wasn’t sure what would have happened if he knew. Would he tell her there was some kind of reset factory? Some kind of orb that she’d need to touch? She’d do all of it just to be an ounce of normal– to not put anybody in harm’s way.

“Right…” Van’s throat constricted and she felt a sting in her eyes. She didn’t want to cry, not in front of Milo, and not over this. Couldn’t she just be an adult for once in her life?

“I just don’t want to hurt anyone else.” Her mind flashed to Diana, to the way that she melted the blanket around herself, Cass, and Ariadne. What if she had opened another black hole? What if…

And then Milo told her that they could look into it. Her gaze shifted back up to meet his and she opened her mouth to speak, but his next suggestion made her feel ill. “I don’t know how. I don’t even know what any of this is.” She could learn, and she knew it, but she was being stubborn when it came to her magic– she didn’t even want it, which was the whole point of this conversation. “I just want it to go away. My grandma doesn’t even have it, my parents didn’t have it– so why do I have it? It’s not fair.” She was giving Milo maybe a little too much of herself, but she couldn’t stop, “I just want to be normal, like them– so that my grandma will love me again, and so that I won’t keep hurting or killing people.” She snapped her mouth closed after a moment and she shook her head.

“I’m afraid of killing people, I haven’t–” But Milo already knew about Debbie, and even though her powers hadn’t actually killed that girl, he already knew she was privy to hurting others. “Please ignore that last part.”

—

She had family in New York. It wasn't something he should relate to- he did have family in New York. They were still there, still alive– his friends, his parents, his tía. But, well, his parents hadn't really counted in years, had they? And his friends had pretty much given up on him after he had all but ghosted everyone. He couldn't exactly blame them– it was his own fault, after all– but it still stung. Even more so, considering how long he'd known some of them, and the circumstances that had led to him leaving in the first place. Maybe Anthony hadn't been the only one getting sick of him.

His aunt was the only one left, really, now that Luz was here. Another person he had disappointed, another face he couldn't quite face. But he pushed those thoughts aside, refocusing on Van.

It obviously wasn’t what she had been hoping to hear. Milo watched her face drop, saw how she tried to fight it, keep her face neutral. It made her look even younger, and it just made him think of his sister, reminded him that Van was dealing with all of this by herself. And she had hurt people.

There was a pit forming in his stomach, a feeling of nausea settling in. His chest hurt.

Of course, she didn't want her magic when it was something that she had no control over, when it had led to her hurting others. It's why he was in this damn town, too, why he rarely used his own magic these days. If not for the good memories, the knowledge of what it was like to cast and be in control, if all Milo had known his entire life was this chaotic, dangerous magic he'd been dealing with for over a year now, he would want to be rid of it, too. So, maybe it felt wrong to offer, but not offering seemed even worse somehow.

It wasn't an immediate solution, though. Learning to control it was the only thing that could actually help in the present moment. But that definitely hadn't been what she wanted to hear. She looked panicked at just the idea of it, her response coming off almost childish, a fear and desperation leaking through that made his heart hurt. She was only twenty, and she had lost her parents. That was hard enough already without having magical abilities that she knew absolutely nothing about. She hadn’t even known magic was real. It wasn't fair.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something comforting, but she continued, words spilling out in a rush. I just want to be normal, like them– so that my grandma will love me again, and so that I won’t keep hurting or killing people.

Jesus fucking Christ.

There was a lot to unpack there, but Van was sitting across from him, looking terrified and hopeless in a way that felt far too familiar for his liking. He took a moment, ignoring the prickling sensation in his eyes as he tried to figure out how the fuck to respond to that.

His voice was subdued when he began speaking again. "I'm sorry that you've had to deal with this by yourself this whole time. And I'm sorry about... what happened. I don't– I'm not– I don't–" know what to say.

He pressed his fist to his mouth, physically blocking himself from speaking as he propped his head up, thinking. And after a moment, he let his arm drop back down to the table. "I used to love my magic more than anything," he admitted. "But I've been– I can't control it anymore. It's not the same thing, obviously, but I kinda–"

Milo looked down, voice wavering as the pit in his stomach grew, the ache in his chest worsening. "I've hurt– My–my sister– my older sister– she was trying to help me and–" A boulder had wedged its way into his throat, making it impossible to finish the sentence. Just behind it, he could almost taste the bile.

His eyes were glued to a scratch on the table as he took a few breaths, trying to focus on the center of his chest, on the feeling of distance between himself and the barrier keeping the brunt of his emotions at bay.

"I've hurt people, too…"

A few more breaths, and he was able to look up at her once again, his gaze sad and sympathetic. "It's–it's not fair, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I get it, you don't want this, you don't want to ever use your power, but... it's there. And, like it or not, it's part of you. I’ll help you look for a way to get rid of it– I will– but I don't know how long that could take, or if something like that even exists."

She didn't want to hear it, but it had to be said.

"You have to learn to control it, Van, or it's just gonna keep happening."

—

The thing about Van was that she was always going to drop a nuclear disaster in any conversation. The words were always going to roll out, looking for any way to make the situation worse. She didn’t mean to make Milo look so mortified, it was just sort of her… thing. She was capable of making any situation awkward by simply speaking, and it wasn’t ever going to get any better. Like her magic, maybe she needed to figure out how to control that.

Van looked down at her hands as she began to pick at some of the dry skin on her thumb. It probably wasn’t very sanitary for her to do so considering she worked at a food joint, but she’d just put gloves on for the rest of the day, it was no big deal.

Milo offered his apologies as they all did– it was all anyone could ever do.

But he offered something else, too. A look into his own life; into the way he had turned it upside down.

With all of their discussions surrounding magic– or rather, lack thereof, Van had been so sure that Milo was some kind of elite magic user. But there was a distinct fear in his features, and it echoed in his voice. He spoke of the one he had hurt; his sister– and Van felt her chest tighten. Iron flattened over her tongue, anxiety swirling through her. She hadn’t meant to get this kind of story from him– she liked it better when she didn’t know anything, when he was a little bit scary because he knew things. Opening up like this meant something and she knew it, and she didn’t really like it.

It meant that there was a weight to this now, the kind that she wasn’t really all too sure she could shoulder, even on her best days. But Milo continued, and Van kept her mouth closed. She listened to him as he spoke, as he admitted he’d hurt somebody too. She wasn’t very tactful at times, but something in her told her not to ask if the person in question had died. She already knew the answer to that.

Van continued picking at the dry skin before she could feel Milo looking at her. She looked up, finally, and looked into those sad puppy dog eyes. He looked like he’d been kicked down a flight of stairs. It was sort of the way she felt inside.

“I’m sorry.” The words felt lifeless, so she tried again, “that you– that you know what it’s like, I mean.” Because nobody should, she realized. Nobody this young should know what it’s like to hurt somebody else, not when they’re the kind of person to do so. Van had originally been worried that Milo would find a way to hurt her with his words; a confession to the precinct, but instead, his physicality– the magic he had, it had hurt someone, too. She wasn’t sure she liked this level of honesty anymore, but everything was already laid out on the table.

“We’ll… I’ll try.” Because it was the least she could offer, even if hurt to say. Try either finding a way to get rid of it, or to control it, Van didn’t articulate. She felt like she should, but she couldn’t get herself to say it. “I’m– do you… more pizza.” She got up from her chair and turned, stumbling back to the cash register. She grabbed a warmed slice and dished it out, but not before washing her hands aggressively. Van returned to Milo with the lopsided slice, half of it smeared across the plate. “Pizza is better than–” honesty, she wanted to say, but instead, she cleared her throat, “than being sad, here’s more pizza.” She plopped it down in front of Milo, still not sure what to say. “You’re… different than I thought you would be. Than when I first met you.” He was a lot more sad, she thought, a lot less threatening. Then again, he had hurt somebody too, so maybe that wasn’t the case.

—

The girl looked anxious and miserable, and he hated it. Milo wished he could do more, say more. He wished he could fix things for her, but even with his powers, that wasn’t something he would have been able to pull off. Van wasn’t having a literal meltdown, though, so that was good, he supposed.

He hadn’t been expecting a sorry from her– he hadn’t known what to expect from her at all, honestly, given their past interactions– but that just made it harder to take in. There was a weight to the words, a quiet understanding that made him feel a little hollow.

It reminded him a little of that first meeting with Finn, that grim feeling of camaraderie once he realized the empath felt the same brand of distant misery that he did. There had been a sense of comfort there, knowing he wasn’t so alone, as fucked up as it might’ve been. That comfort was absent here, though. They had unintentionally hurt people, killed people, and they had to live with that. There was no comfort to be offered to either of them.

Milo could only nod, jaw tense as he tried to keep himself steady. The last thing they needed was for him to have a meltdown now.

He also hadn’t known how she would react. They’d spoken about this before, after all, and he was still there at the shop trying to convince her. He’d readied himself for more of an argument, but it seemed she didn’t have any fight left in her. Not about this. He was glad that she was willing to try, but he couldn’t actually feel glad about anything in this situation. Still, he managed a small smile. A small smile that quickly turned to confusion as she scrambled back behind the counter with a faint more pizza.

The first slice was still on his plate, having been abandoned for the rather serious conversation, and he turned his attention to it as Van took a few moments. He certainly couldn’t blame her for wanting to get away from the heaviness that had settled over them, even if just for a few minutes. It was mostly gone by the time she got back, a rather fucked up looking slice of pizza in hand. Pizza is better than… being sad.

He snorted, lips quirking up into a wry smile. It sounded like something Luci would say while trying to cheer him up. “Thanks.” It came out sounding probably too sincere, so Milo turned his attention to the pizza.

He tried his best to fix the disaster on his plate and salvage as much of the cheese as he could before it became one with the paper plate. Glancing up at the admission, he gave her a slightly sheepish look. “Yeah, sorry again about that. It was stupid of me.”

—

Van wished that this conversation could be pushed into something else, that it could relate back to something normal like exams or friendships, and not the fact that they had both hurt somebody, either with or without their magic. Van hated that this was how she had to relate to Milo, and in the same breath, it was somewhat comforting. It felt a little easier knowing she wasn’t the only mess, especially because it seemed like Milo knew a thing or two about magic. Even with that knowledge, he had still hurt someone. Deep down, Van wasn’t sure if that was actually a good thing or not, but she chose for it to be. It was easier if it was. If she blocked out what it meant; that Milo wasn’t in control either, that maybe he didn’t know everything– that the answers she was seeking would go left untouched.

But she had to choose to trust him– the help he offered, and everything else.

She went to take her seat, but the door opened and the flow of cold air pooled around her ankles. Van gave Milo an apologetic smile before turning her attention to the customers.

Even if it felt like a different world during their discussion, she was still a girl at a stupid pizza shop, and Milo was still the boy who had proof that she was capable of terrible things. Van wasn’t sure if hopeful was the right word to associate with this interaction, but she did so anyway. Maybe they would find a way to get rid of her magic, and maybe Milo would be more sure of himself through that victory– Van couldn’t be certain, but she wanted to be.

#para: do you believe in magic #para: milo #parental death tw #sibling death tw #suicidal ideation tw #wickedswriting

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astercontrol · 10 months

Text

Hear me out, NSFW Tronblr:

my brain's going on another Connections Spree

You know how we love to use "I/O Tower" as a sexual innuendo

But I think it's more than that

I think at least some programs (including Tron)

actually have a circuit cluster there ("There" meaning, that gorgeous bulge)

… a circuit cluster which is used in connections to the I/O tower

and/or to the outside world in general

Don't get me wrong I think it's still used for pleasure and still feels amazing to touch

But when that pleasure makes him feel like he's seeing God, it's 'cause there's actual User communication going on

Evidence:

When Tron powers up at the energy pool, he makes noises that toooootally sound like he's getting aroused

Then immediately afterwards he says he "feels Alan-1 calling him"

But he can't get more than a feeling unless he actually goes to The Tower

So he goes there to actually communicate with Alan

Dumont lets him in--

(incidentally, and very relevantly, Dumont is dressed like THIS)

and then Dumont begins reciting those words about extending into the invisible --

and as he begins, Tron grabs himself there

and holds it, all the way through the entire speech Like it's a part of the ritual or something

Like activating his own personal, um, Tower is a necessary part of interacting with the Tower itself

...

… This would give a whole new layer of meaning to the Deleted Scene when Yori used his circuits as a map for how to reach the Tower.

Makes me think he's got actual landmarks on his body

representing things on that map

and… the Tower is one of them

...

So, if we're gonna try for an in-universe explanation of this intensely sexual flavor to the methods of contact between programs and the outside world…

well, let's listen to Walter (Dumont's User)

who has a line that suggests a supernatural explanation for the world inside the ENCOM system, and for the programs spontaneously developing consciousness.

He talked about the "spirits" of programmers living on in their programming

And just suppose we take that explanation

and assume that the world of the programs formed itself from the spiritual signature of Users

In that case:

when this formation occurred, the whole concept of "reporting back to their Users" somehow got inextricably connected to the SEXUAL aspect of human spirit

Perhaps because this communication (like sex) is a form of exchange, of sharing?

Perhaps because programmers are pervs?

Perhaps both?

idk, i am just deeply thankful it happened.

#tronblr #headcanon #io tower #yori #tron 1982 #tron #dumont #walter #tron/yori

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fyodcrs · 1 year

Text

To Rest

Fyodor/Sigma

“Um,” Sigma said. “Why—uh, why did you come here?”

One shoulder rose and fell in a shrug. “I just wanted to go somewhere quiet. Somewhere…away from everyone.”

Read on AO3 here!

The room was nice. Very nice, as a matter of fact. This was a high-end hotel, resplendent with all the accommodations expected by the wealthy, the important, and the powerful. Sigma supposed he was wealthy, technically speaking; the Sky Casino brought in significant revenue (“a shit-ton and a half,” as Fukuchi had eloquently put it), and all of it was in Sigma’s name. Sigma did not, however, think of himself as wealthy, because only Fyodor actually had access to any of the money (according to Fukuchi: “Fedya actually knows what he’s doing, and that’s why he runs everything and I just do what he tells me to do”). Sigma was, most certainly, neither important nor powerful. He felt completely out of place in this posh, modern western-style hotel sitting regally in the center of a city he didn’t know. The room intimidated him even, a little. Well, maybe more than a little.

“Is all this really…necessary?” he asked, timidly standing in the middle of the room and looking around.

Nikolai, who had brought him here, cackled and leaped onto the bed with all the carelessly destructive glee of a child. “Fuku-kun wanted to spoil us all a bit, so he asked Dos-kun to book a really nice room for you, just like he had Dos-kun get me a really expensive apartment to stay in while I’m playing secretary. ‘I’ve got plenty to spare,’ he said, with his chest all puffed out—” Nikolai demonstrated by puffing his own chest out exaggeratedly, “—like he thought Dos-kun would be impressed, even though he should know by now that Dos-kun disdains wealth and luxury and is never impressed by anything.”

That, Sigma knew, was quite true; Fyodor was never impressed by anything, least of all by anything that Fukuchi did to try to impress him. “Well…I guess it’s nice.”

“Besides! Dos-kun likes you. He’d never stick you in a crappy motel with the city’s riffraff. He’d do that to me, but not to you.”

Dos-kun likes you. Sigma let that sink in, startled by the very idea.

Nikolai bounced up into a sitting position, his expression abruptly solemn. “But!” he said with emphasis, pointing a finger at Sigma as if in admonishment, which made Sigma tense up. “While you’re here, you’ll need to play the part, make sure you fit in, just like I told you when you took over the Casino. Do you remember what I said?”

“Uh…”

“You need to be dignified and respectable!”

“Dignified and respectable,” Sigma repeated, dubious.

“Da! You must act like a man of substance. And men of substance blow their noses very loudly. You must learn to do the same.”

Sigma blinked. “Blow…their noses?”

“A truly dignified man has a truly dignified nose, and when he blows it, it is as loud as a trumpet. This earns him the respect of all those around him, especially those of a lower station, who cannot blow their noses nearly as loudly. Here, try it!” There was a box of tissues on the nightstand; Nikolai grabbed it and chucked it at Sigma, with an amount of force that seemed quite unnecessary. Sigma, whose reflexes were actually quite sharp, managed to catch it before it struck him squarely in his own dignified nose.

“Um…okay.” He took out a tissue and blew his nose. The sound that resulted was more like a heavy puff, decidedly not trumpet-like. Nikolai sighed.

“Well…we’ll have to work on that. Anyway, wanna see what’s on the TV?”

Some time after he had been left on his own, Sigma sat on the bed—enormous, as soft as a cloud; he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, but at least he’d be comfortable as he tossed and turned and stared at the ceiling—and looked at the knife on the nightstand. Steel gleamed flatly in the white light. Nikolai had given it to him before he departed. Sigma did not want to touch it. He had left the room, earlier, venturing out onto the street, but when he had returned the knife was still there where Nikolai had put it.

He had used knives before, and once he had used a gun. He had never killed someone.

He had not actually been told, in so many words, that he was supposed to kill. But a knife in a man’s chest was likely to accomplish that, intended or not.

Sigma rubbed his face and leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees, his hands over his eyes. He thought about his casino, miles and miles away, somewhere high up above the clouds. If he could complete this mission, he could return to her. He must hang on to that, let that guide him through this.

It was still a few days before he had to do his part in the unfolding of events. All he could do now was wait, and try not to lose his nerve or his mind. Much easier said than done.

With a long, shaky breath, Sigma straightened. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

He started. Hastily, he hid the knife in his coat, which he had slung carelessly over an armchair.

“Yes?” he called, taking a cautious step toward the door.

No answer. He waited, heart pounding. Seconds ticked by, stretching the silence until it was almost unbearable. At last, there was something: the unmistakable click of the lock disengaging. The door swung open.

“Fyodor?” Sigma blinked, surprised.

He looked a mess, like he had just taken a nasty tumble or something. His clothes were dirty and stained faint crimson—blood or wine or both, it was hard to tell. A sleeve was torn. His hair was messy and matted around his temples, like it had been wet. Otherwise he seemed unscathed, but he looked utterly exhausted. He was carrying a bag.

“I’m going to use the shower,” he said by way of greeting, and, kicking off his boots, he went straight to the bathroom.

“Okay,” Sigma said, bemused.

Ten minutes later Sigma was still standing there, unsure what to do, when Fyodor reemerged. The bag must have had a change of clothes, because now he was wearing black pants and a dark blue sweater. Sigma had only ever seen him in the usual outfit he’d walked in wearing—white shirt and pants, black mantle, white ushanka—and the effect was kind of startling. He looked different—smaller, somehow. He was only a couple inches taller than Sigma, but it always seemed like he towered over others, even with the way he tended to hunch. The heavy mantle draped across his shoulders made them appear broader and hid, to an extent, how thin he was, made him look less—delicate.

It wasn’t just that, though. Sigma had to drop his gaze and turn away, hoping to hide the blush he could feel rising traitorously on his face, betraying that he thought Fyodor looked—attractive. Beautiful, really.

He had thought this before, and it was a strange thing to think about this man he barely knew and was sometimes afraid of, a strange thing to have imprinted itself on the image he had of Fyodor in his head, the essential idea of Fyodor that had formed alongside his ideas of Fukuchi, of Nikolai, of his clients and other people he knew and had known. The idea of Fyodor was far less defined than these others, and ever-shifting, like a shape in mist, like the patterns traced by falling snowflakes in the wind. There were occasions when it settled into something clear and solid, and when it did, instead of the faint undercurrent of the fear and uncertainty and even repulsion that sometimes stirred in him when he thought of Fyodor, he felt something warm and somehow bittersweet, something he could not name.

He felt that nameless something now, looking at this new image of Fyodor, filed away with the few memories he had of the other man.

Without a word, Fyodor dropped the bag—presumably now containing his dirty clothes—next to the nightstand and then dropped himself down onto the bed in a very similar fashion, smashing face-first into the pillows. Not long ago Sigma had seen him faint for the first time, and for a moment Sigma was terrified it had happened again. Then Fyodor shifted, turning onto his side, and Sigma breathed a sigh of relief.

Hesitatingly, he walked over to the bed and sat down on the other side of the mattress, careful to keep a respectful space between them. Fyodor had always kept his distance from Sigma, and Sigma had never tried to cross it. Fyodor had crossed it, once. The memory, of a touch as light and fleeting as the brush of a feather, tingled strangely on his skin.

“Are you…okay?” he asked, after a moment of silence that felt awkward, at least to him.

Fyodor’s eyes were closed, but he made a face. “I was hit in the head with a wine bottle, and now I have a splitting headache. So I’ve been better, I suppose.”

“A wine bottle?” Sigma all but shrieked, loud enough to make Fyodor wince and touch his temple. “Someone hit you with a bottle? Are you all right? You could have a concussion!”

Forgetting himself in his shock and concern, Sigma reached over to touch the back of Fyodor’s head, feeling for a bump, but Fyodor swatted his hand away. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Don’t fuss. There’s no concussion; I know the symptoms. Just a really bad headache.”

“Who hit you?” Sigma was frankly bewildered. He could not imagine someone just…hauling back and walloping Fyodor in the head with a bottle. It sounded like something Nikolai would do to Fukuchi while they were both drunk—or while Fukuchi was drunk, anyway; Nikolai seemed to have a superhuman ability to hold his liquor, while Fukuchi was prostrate after about two shots of vodka—and laughing like madmen.

“Port Mafia Executive. No need to swear revenge on my behalf—he’s dead now.”

“Oh.” Sigma shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. The Port Mafia, right. You killed him. How, I wonder? He didn’t ask. He didn’t really want to know.

Fyodor curled up into a loose fetal position, tucking one arm under his pillow. The pillow was starting to soak through, but he did not seem to mind. Wet hair hung over his face in a thick black veil. Long lashes rested dark against his pallid cheeks. Lying there like that, he looked smaller—frailer—than ever.

“Um,” Sigma said. “Why—uh, why did you come here?”

One shoulder rose and fell in a shrug. “I just wanted to go somewhere quiet. Somewhere…away from everyone.”

There was a subtle shift in his voice that Sigma did not know how to read. Beneath the fall of his hair, his face was pinched and haggard. A fracture in the mask of deadly serenity he wore like a second skin. Curled in on himself, saying that he wanted to be away from everyone, away from the world, he looked so vulnerable. And young. Too young, too thin, too pale. Just a boy, sickly and tired and in pain.

He wants to die. Nikolai’s words echoed coldly in Sigma’s head.

He managed to speak, the words sounding far away to his own ears. “But why…come here? Didn’t you know I’d be here?”

“Yes.”

“Did you…want me to leave you alone?”

“No. Your presence is soothing.”

Murmured but clear, the words hovered in the space that separated their opposite sides of the bed like an offering waiting to be accepted, and for a moment Sigma’s heart stopped dead in his chest, stealing his breath, leaving him unmoored and fumbling. The unguarded, uncalculated nature of the admission was perhaps more startling than the admission itself.

Sigma understood so little about Fyodor, Nikolai, Fukuchi, or the vaguely defined relationships that bound them all together in this organization. His own existence was a mystery to him. Where had he come from? How had he ended up in the desert, with a train ticket to nowhere and no memory even of his own name? Was there a family somewhere out there, searching for him? Why was he here? Why had he been born? A thousand things he did not understand, a thousand questions with no answers. But more than anyone or anything, it was Fyodor who unbalanced him, who threw his every sense of perception into a jumbled haze of confusion and emotions he did not have names for.

Finding his voice again, he hedged, “Maybe we should call Fukuchi-san. You could be really hurt.”

Fyodor groaned, turning his face into the pillow so his voice was muffled. “Please don’t. Genichirou will flip and kill the whole Mafia, and that’ll screw up my plans. And if Nikolai finds out about this, he’ll be crowing about it for days. I’m fine, really. Just…let me stay here until my head stops hurting. I took some painkillers, they’ll kick in soon.”

Let me. As if he was asking.

“And I’m going to have to deal with Dazai soon,” Fyodor said plaintively, resignedly. “That’s going to be an even bigger headache. I think I’d rather get hit in the head with another wine bottle. Talking to him always feels like getting something smashed over my skull.”

Sigma frowned, puzzled. “Who’s Dazai?”

Fyodor raised a hand and flapped it in a half-hearted gesture of dismissal. “You’ll meet him soon enough. If all goes according to my plan, anyway. Which it will, of course. One way or another.”

That sounded ominous, very ominous, but Sigma did not need reminding that he was just a puppet in a grand scheme he could barely begin to comprehend.

“So I just want to lay here. For a little while.”

“All right,” Sigma relented. He sat back against the headboard, clasping his hands in his lap and watching Fyodor discreetly out of the corner of his eye.

There was silence, for a few moments. Sigma’s thoughts had begun to wander when Fyodor spoke again. He sounded half-asleep now. “Are you nervous?”

Sigma tensed. “Nervous?”

“About what you’ve been asked to do.”

Sigma took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said at length, only because it was pointless to lie to Fyodor. Even a sleepy Fyodor. “But I’ll do it.”

“I know.” It came out almost as a sigh, and Sigma wondered that he seemed…sad.

He started to speak, then stopped himself. He looked away.

“Have you gone anywhere, checked out the city at all?”

“Uh.” Was Fyodor…trying to make small talk with him? That was new. “Not really. I mean, I went to a bookstore that’s nearby. It was nice.”

“Did you get any books?”

“I bought one, yeah.”

“Is it good?”

“Well, I just started it, but I like it. It’s a book of short stories.”

“You like books?”

“Yes,” Sigma said, mystified.

Fyodor lapsed back into silence for a beat or two. He opened his eyes, and finally brushed the hair from his face. He was not looking at Sigma, but up at the ceiling, his expression pensive and distant.

“Life,” he began, as if speaking to the room rather than to Sigma, or perhaps just thinking out loud, “can be such a burden that it becomes more like a labor, a duty that we’re fulfilling only because we have to. We don’t really know, or care, why we have to, we just feel that we do, and tell a human being that they have to do something, and they will do it, maybe with some grumbling, but without question and without any real rebellion. Mankind have always been willing to defy God, no matter how His decrees may improve their lives, but never willing to defy the decrees of their fellow man, no matter how it may ruin them. Life becomes just like a job, and a dull one at that. If there is one thing that all human beings can agree on, it’s that life is better from a book. What is life without books? Ask a human being to think for himself, and he will be terribly confused, but give him a book, and he’ll know precisely what to think and what to feel. In that way, I suppose we all are born from books.”

Sigma certainly felt confused. “Yeah, I suppose,” he said, trying to sound like he had understood half of that.

Fyodor closed his eyes again and snuggled himself deeper into the mattress. He might have been chilly, but he made no move to get under the covers. “You should buy more books,” he said to Sigma.

Sigma nodded, slowly. An idea came to him, and tumbled out of his mouth before common sense could check impulse. “You like books, right? You could come with me to the bookstore, when you’re feeling better. Maybe you’ll find something interesting.”

“Too much to do,” Fyodor muttered into the pillow.

“It’s not far, you can spare an hour or so,” Sigma insisted, without the slightest idea why he had latched onto this idea so strongly.

Fyodor hummed thoughtfully, but did not reply.

Sigma’s heart was pounding again, not from fear now, but from a kind of anxious excitement, even eagerness. He could imagine it, could almost see it—leading Fyodor down the street to the small bookstore, with the bright red bench out front and the cheerful sign in the window advertising a popular new children’s book. He could show Fyodor where he had found the book he’d bought, show him the rest of the fantasy literature lined up neatly on the shelves. Maybe Fyodor would gravitate to another section—history, philosophy, poetry—and Sigma would follow him, and find out what kinds of books Fyodor liked.

We can stop this, Sigma wanted to say, suddenly. It’s not too late, not yet. Come with me to the bookstore. Then come back with me, to the Casino. You gave me a place; let me give it back to you, and it can be ours. I don’t want this, and I don’t think you do, either. But I think I want you. I don’t know why I’m here, I don’t know why I was born, but you could give me a reason. And maybe I could give you a reason.

He said none of this, of course. Belated, common sense had caught up, and now he was blushing again, inwardly scolding himself for this burst of reckless stupidity.

“Why don’t you read to me?” Fyodor suggested, startling Sigma out of the moody turn his thoughts had taken. “From the book you bought.”

“Huh?”

“Read to me.”

“Um…oh. Okay.” The book was on the table; Sigma almost tripped over his own feet and fell on his ass in his haste to get up and get it, and then almost tripped again in his haste to get back. He took a deep breath to try and steady himself and calm his nerves before he opened the book and began to read, slowly and haltingly at first, gaining confidence as he went along.

“Li Zheng of Longxi was a very talented and learned young man who, in the last year of the Tianbao era, passed the qualifying examination to become a government official. He was put in charge of constabulary and military affairs in the area south of the lower reaches of the Yangzi River. But, strong-willed and self-confident, Li Zheng could not rest content with his status as a low-ranking official….

“….‘Little by little I grew apart from the world and distant from others. I fed my cowardly self-respect with dollops of rage, shame, and self-pity. We are all of us trainers of wild beasts, it is said, and the beasts in question are our own inner selves. In my case, the beast inside was my self-important sense of shame. That was my tiger, and it damaged me, brought sorrow to my wife and children….”

He stopped when he realized that Fyodor had fallen asleep. His breathing had slowed and evened out; the tight lines of his expression had smoothed. He looked peaceful, now, though shadows of exhaustion were still there, and once more it struck Sigma how young he looked, and how strange it was to see him this way.

Marking his place with the complementary bookmark he had received with his purchase—something that had delighted him—Sigma closed the book and set it on the second nightstand on his side of the bed. Fyodor had said he only wanted to stay a little while. Probably there was work he needed to do for the plan. He always seemed to be working on the plan, setting every piece in place, pulling every string that needed to be pulled. The other three of them—Sigma, Nikolai, and Fukuchi, along with, Sigma assumed, the mysterious fifth member of this organization—were just more pieces to be put into their proper places. He played the tune, and they danced along in blissful submission. Or, in Sigma’s case, he stumbled along, desperately trying to follow the instructions given him, because he had nothing, not even a name, and nowhere else to go.

Sigma supposed he should wake Fyodor up before too long. For now, though, he’d let Fyodor rest. The time Fyodor had fainted, in the casino, Fukuchi had told Sigma that Fyodor rarely slept. Maybe it was because of all the work he had to do for this, because of an almost monomaniacal commitment to what they were doing, that he deprived himself of sleep and by his own admission could go days without even eating. Maybe it was why he had let himself be captured by the Port Mafia and subjected to violence at the hands of one of their executives. Or—maybe it was what Nikolai had told Sigma.

He wants to die.

For now, for at least a little while, he’d let Fyodor rest.

After a prolonged hesitation, Sigma very carefully tugged the covers out from under Fyodor. He froze when Fyodor stirred, but resumed when the other man did not wake. He pulled the covers over Fyodor and tucked him in as best he could.

“Just sleep,” he murmured. “It’s okay. When you found me, I said I’d do whatever you needed me to do. I’ll watch over you now, if that’s what you need from me. I…I can do that for you.”

He went back to his book, but it was not long before he started to feel sleepy himself, lulled by the hushed, steady sound of Fyodor’s breathing. He himself had been having a difficult time sleeping lately. Half-forgotten, the knife had been left hidden inside his coat slung over the side of the armchair in the middle of the spacious room. He wished to forget it entirely, and for it to stay forgotten. He wished, too, that Fyodor could forget whatever it was that made him hate the world so deeply.

He laid down on his side, facing Fyodor. His hands rested on the mattress, mere inches from where Fyodor’s rested. The last thought that passed through his mind was that even that small distance seemed so wide. It always did, no matter how close they actually were.

Sigma fell asleep.

#fyosig #Bungou Stray Dogs #Fyodor Dostoevsky #Sigma #BSD Fyodor #BSD Sigma #Fyodor/Sigma #*fics #heyyyy more fyosig because they've taken over my brain apparently #I don't even ship them that hard!#but they're fun to write hehe #I am completely ignoring canon timeline at this point #fyoma

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greatideas-badwriter · 7 months

Text

Worth The Risk: Chapter 9

As soon as Sakura reached the floor level of the house, she realized there were more people around that she didn't recognize than those she did. Politely, she made her way through the crowded rooms, keeping her head low to not offend anyone or draw attention to herself, until she found Konan in the kitchen.

The woman's orange eyes locked onto her, and she spoke quietly once she was close enough to hear, "Tonight, you are to entertain guests as a lady of this house."

The pinkette's face must've properly emoted her panic because Konan quickly added in an annoyed voice, "I won't force you to provide that type of entertainment. You're more than welcome if you'd like, of course, but you're to drink, smile, and flirt. Do whatever you feel will make these men like you."

"I'm sorry if I'm speaking out of turn, but why do these people need to like me? I'm a housekeeper. Shouldn't I just stay out of sight?"

The older woman's brow furrowed into an expression of disbelief, "Let me give you some advice, Sakura."

She turned to pour a glass of alcohol-spiked cider, speaking softly so only the pink-haired woman would hear and not the men around, "As a female, you have more power than you realize. Men think with their dicks more often than their brains, especially when a woman's younger and innocent-looking, like you. Do you understand?"

Sakura accepted the glass from Konan, swallowing nervously but nodding, 'So that's why she didn't put me in a slutty outfit,' she looked around at the men in the room who were doing little to mask their wandering gazes, 'These are the type of guys that get off on feeling powerful, so someone strong and confident like Konan doesn't do it for them.'

"I-I, um, I don't know if I can do this…."

"Here, drink this," she was handed a second glass, this one being full of a dark-colored liquor, "Chug all of it. Now."

Tears welled in her eyes, but Sakura did as ordered and tossed back the entire drink, wincing as she swallowed before placing the empty cup on the counter and shaking her head, 'Where's Sasuke? It won't take long for that to hit me.'

"Now go. Don't disappoint me."

Internally, the pink-haired woman was pissed, but the fear overshadowed it. 'How dare they try to whore me out! This wasn't in the contract I signed. I read it very carefully!' she thought while walking out of the kitchen as instructed.

By the time she arrived in the den, she was tipsy, but at least the nerves had calmed a little. A couple of guys talked to her briefly before she caught a glimpse of a familiar face across the room and politely excused herself.

'I really should've eaten something before this. I already feel a little dizzy, and I haven't even drunk that much yet.'

"What are you doing here?" It was Mr. Hatake, the professor who'd encouraged her yesterday. The woman stumbled, only for him to hurriedly grab her shoulder and steady her.

Sakura grinned up at him, "Um, well…." She wasn't so drunk that she'd stupidly admit to being employed by the house's owners, especially when he seemed concerned by her presence. "I-I wanted to thank you again for your help yesterday. It meant a lot to me."

His brown eyes were a little hazy, hinting that he'd also had some to drink. That was likely the reason he allowed the topic to change. They chatted casually for a moment or two about the holiday and the weather before he suddenly said, "You look beautiful tonight, by the way. I hope it's alright that I say that."

"Thank you! Kon-Uh, my friend bought this dress for me, so I was worried it wouldn't fit," Sakura averted her gaze with a red face, tossing back a good portion of her drink to mask her slip-up.

'I don't know what I'm allowed to say to people. I potentially almost got myself in trouble just then!'

It was then that Sasuke finally showed up. He didn't come over to speak to Sakura but found a couple of men to chat with across the room, where he glanced her way occasionally. It made her feel much safer, so she relaxed and spoke casually with the professor.

Maybe half an hour later, Sakura gasped, officially intoxicated because she hadn't made that cider to be weak, 'Konan will probably be angry if she finds out I spent the entire night talking to my teacher! I should go before someone tells her.'

"I need a refill, so I'll talk to you later, okay?"

The man nodded, grinning from behind his mask, "Of course. Have a good time. If you happen to see me later, come say hi again."

'Thank God he didn't try to stop me,' Sakura thought, heading into the kitchen for another drink.

"Here, Sweetheart. You look like you might be thirsty." A tall man with tan skin, green eyes, and black hair in a ponytail offered a glass to her.

She hesitantly accepted it, "Thank you, um…"

"Hyo! My name's Hyo. What about you?"

The woman forced a smile, not drunk enough to feel entirely at ease around a strange man, and lifted the cup to her lips while responding, "Nice to meet you. My name's-" "Sakura."

She and the tall man looked over to see Sasuke glaring at the man, "Sasuke…?"

He took the cup from her hand and offered it back to Hyo, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The green-eyed man laughed awkwardly, glancing between them, "Having a drink with Sakura here. Why? Is there a problem? I thought this was a party."

"Drink it."

Sakura's eyes widened when Sasuke shoved the drink into the man's hand, who accepted it with a surprised expression, "What?"

The Uchiha man's glare deepened, "I said drink it. Is there a reason you don't want to?" Hyo's face paled, and he donned an expression of dread. Sasuke scoffed, "That's what I fucking thought. Try something like that again, and you'll have more teeth in your stomach than your mouth."

Rather drunk, Sakura stumbled to keep up when Sasuke grabbed her arm and pulled her into the kitchen and out of the hallway, "Don't drink anything you didn't see poured, Dumbass. Are you trying to get roofied?"

"Oh, is that what happened? Thank you so much for helping me!" Sakura smiled while simultaneously prying at the man's fingers around her arm. Drunk or not, it made her uncomfortable.

He released once at the counter, shooting daggers at Konan, who returned the look with her own, "How fucked up are you right now? Be honest."

Sakura realized he was trying to figure out if it was safe to let her go off on her own again and assured him, "I'm alright. I won't take a drink from a stranger again." She could feel both Yahiko and his wife watching them. Not only did she not want to get into trouble, but she didn't want to drag Sasuke into it, too.

'It's just a little flirting, and that's it. She even promised they wouldn't make me do anything more. Just try to have a good time.'

"If you feel sick, go upstairs." She nodded, accepting a new glass from the Uchiha man. He gave her a warning glare before leaving the room again.

She followed more slowly, only then realizing that Christmas music was playing softly from somewhere in the house. Gravitating toward it, she realized it was the television. An hour passed as the woman talked with whoever came up to her, careful not to lose sight of Sasuke or her drink so nothing terrible would happen.

Another hour passed.

When the party had been going for just under four hours, nearly one o'clock, Mr. Hatake reappeared. Sakura giggled, standing beside him against the wall. She'd cut herself off after her last glass because she was officially trashed. That decision used up the last of her soberness. The woman could barely walk straight, slurred her words, and found almost everything funny.

"Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?" He asked, but an amused twinkle was in his eyes.

Sakura made a negative noise, leaning into him momentarily before beaming at his surprised face, "I didn't tell you this earlier because I was embarrassed, but you're totally my favorite teacher, Mr. Hatake."

"Is that so? I'm flattered."

"Am I your favorite student?"

The man's eyes widened before he chuckled, turning to stand in front of her rather than beside her so he could be better prepared to catch her if she fell, "I'm not supposed to choose favorites. It's a bad practice for teachers."

The pink-haired woman sighed dramatically, "So all that talk about liking how I write my assignments was just you trying to butter me up? You'll make me cry, Mr. Hatake!"

"It's Kakashi."

She met his eye as steadily as possible in her state, "Huh?"

He pulled his mask down under his chin so she could see his grin as he repeated, "Call me Kakashi when we're not at school. That's my name."

A giggle left her lips, and she tilted her head, stumbling to the side as she teased him half-heartedly, "Mr. Kakashi, why'd you go into education when you're this handsome? You could've been an actor or model."

The professor steadied her with a hand on either side of her waist and an incredulous look, "Is that any way for a student to speak to her teacher? You'll give me the wrong idea."

"What do you mean? Should I not call you Mr. Kakashi? I thought you wanted me to."

He chuckled but changed the subject, "I think you should probably call it a night, Sakura. You've had too much to drink. You might hurt yourself if you fall. Should I have your boyfriend come get you?"

"Huh? My boyfriend?"

Kakashi turned his torso, hands still keeping her steady against the wall, and nodded toward Sasuke, who glared at them, "Him."

Sakura gasped, grabbing a loose handful of the man's shirt while dismissively waving her other hand, "Sasuke? He's not my boyfriend! Are you crazy?"

"He's not? He's been keeping an eye on you all night, so I thought maybe…."

"Oh, that. Yeah, he's like my bodyguard! If someone I'm flirting with gets out of line, he'll come beat them up!"

The white-haired man faced her fully again, cautiously asking, "Is that what you're doing? Flirting? Sakura-"

"Oh, he's coming over! Isn't he intimidating? I still get scared of him sometimes when he's mad." Sakura's chest and face felt warm when Sasuke came close enough that he could hear her, and she grinned, "Don't worry! He's not attacking me or anything."

The Uchiha man looked at the teacher, who glared back for some reason before lowering his gaze to her hand, which still clutched a handful of his shirt, "I think he's more at risk of you attacking him right now. C'mon."

'Why'd he have to say that? This is my teacher, for Christ's sake,' she thought but didn't fight when he grabbed her hand and guided her to his side so he could hold around her waist to keep her upright.

Instead, she hugged him with one arm around his middle and laughed, "Mr. Kakashi, I think I'm in trouble, so I'll see you in class on Monday. G'night!"

Sasuke slowly made his way with a very drunk Sakura through the house, toward the stairs so he could put her to bed. She stumbled, a hand on his chest as she giggled, "Ha, sorry. It's these shoes. They're taller than I'm used to."

'She's so annoying,' he thought as she stepped on his foot for the third time in less than two minutes. It was true, but he also found himself incredibly amused by her more honest reactions.

"Ugh, can I take them off? My feet hurt."

"We're almost there, you crybaby."

The woman grumbled, "You're so mean."

At the top of the stairs, she tore away and stumbled into his room rather than Zetsu's, who agreed to let her keep using his room since he never does.

'If I were a good guy, I'd stop her, but I'm not a good guy, am I?'

He shook his head at himself before following her inside just in time to catch her as she lost her balance trying to lean over to take her shoes off, "Just sit down, damn it. I'll do it." Sasuke, too, was drunk, but he had enough sense about him to take care of a drunk girl that he could probably lift with one arm.

After helping her to sit on the edge of the bed, he knelt, pulling one of her feet onto his knee so he could hold it still while unbuckling the two latches at the ankle. It was silent for a few moments as he did, and once he removed the shoe and switched to the other foot, he looked up to see if she'd fallen asleep because she'd stopped talking.

'Jesus Christ.'

The woman was not asleep.

No, she was staring at him with an expression he recognized from the night they nearly slept together. When their eyes met, she sat straighter before looking away while pushing some hair behind her ear, "You're actually kinda nice sometimes. I shouldn't have called you mean."

Sasuke averted his gaze back to her shoe, unbuckling and removing it before allowing her to pull her foot away, 'I have to get outta here, or I'll end up fucking her senseless.' He stood.

She stopped him by grabbing a hand. When he looked down at her, she gasped and released it, "Sorry, I don't know why I did that."

"...Do you want me to stay?" He hesitantly asked. The man was playing with fire, and he knew it.

Sakura grasped handfuls of the skirt of her dress, not meeting his eye, "Kinda."

'Get out of here.'

Sasuke crouched before the inebriated woman and spoke honestly, "If I stay, I'm going to kiss you and touch you and…. I know you don't want that, so I need to go."

Emerald eyes widened in surprise, locking onto his as she tried to comprehend his words.

It seemed like she understood, so he nodded once before standing again, turning to leave. 'Damn it! If it was anyone else, I wouldn't have to be careful. This fucking sucks.'

"I-I don't mind if you kiss me a little bit…."

'Don't fucking do it.'

The Uchiha man came down to her level again, searching her face.

'This is the opposite of what Itachi told me to do!'

She bashfully met his eye before fumbling to place a hand on either of his shoulders and leaning forward, gaze drifting to his mouth and back up.

'Stop her.'

All the arguments disappeared when Sakura pressed her lips softly to his, the scent of alcohol, cider, and vanilla enveloping the enamored man. Sasuke remained still; it was the only thing he could do to keep himself from attacking her. She didn't seem to mind and moved so that her arms rested over his shoulders, angling her head to deepen the kiss, her tongue slipping past his teeth to dance with his in a surprisingly skillful manner.

When the softest hint of a moan left the woman's chest, his hands twitched, reaching to grab her waist only to freeze. "Your hands…they're scary."

'That's what she said last time. If I touch her, will she want to stop? I want her to stay here.'

Sakura felt so small compared to his larger frame, so feminine and pretty. All that was true, but she was kissing him with the confidence of someone dripping with it. The arms over his shoulders grabbed the shirt on his back, and the woman tried to come closer.

The weight shift threw Sasuke off balance, and he caught himself with his hands on the ground as he eased them back so he was sitting with his knees bent. She maneuvered onto his lap, straddling his hips and pressing against him in a way that made his pants tighten.

A low sound rumbled through his chest when her thin fingers slid into his hair, only to pull it so he'd let his head fall back and part their kiss. She panted for air, gasping as she stopped pulling but kept her hand in his messy hair.

Her voice was soft and airy as she spoke between kisses to his neck, "I feel really warm when I'm with you, Sasuke."

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard to keep control of his urges, "If you don't stop soon, I won't be able to help myself."

"Do you want me to? I will." Sakura said that, but her free hand slid beneath his shirt, and she gently bit the damp skin of his neck, following the act by slowly running her tongue over the same spot.

"I mean….no. Keep doing that." 'You're a piece of shit, Sasuke Uchiha.'

To his surprise, the hand beneath his shirt disappeared, only to grab one of his and guide it to her chest. She pulled back to look in his eye with a heated expression that said she wasn't here on planet Earth but somewhere else. Sakura said nothing, but he understood she wanted him to touch her, so she kissed him once before dipping to pay attention to his neck again.

'Fuck it. We're already this far. I'll back off if she says she's scared.'

Sasuke leaned against the wall to support his weight, using his now-free hand to squeeze her bottom, earning a sound of appreciation from the writhing woman in his arms.

A couple moments later, her energy lessened, and she breathed out, "I'm sleepy now…."

The man could've cursed, "You're joking."

"Alright, Sasuke! I thought you two were hooking up all this time, but I never saw anything. Nice! Lucky!" The Uchiha man turned his head to see Kisame and Kakuzu in the hallway helping a trashed Tobi to his room, the latter having been the one to speak. The other two appeared to be at varying levels of irritation.

They moved on without waiting for his response, and he slid the hand from Sakura's chest around to press against the middle of her back with long strands of soft pink hair between his fingers, only for her to remain still and silent, 'You've got to be fucking kidding me.'

"You're asleep, aren't you?"

The woman softly groaned, the hand in his hair falling slack so her arm hung over his shoulder and her face buried into his neck. An exasperated sigh left the man's mouth, and he moved the hand from her ass to wrap it around her middle, glaring at the ceiling as he felt the thin girl's steady breathing against his chest and stomach.

After a moment of convincing himself not to get too pissed off, he got to his feet, holding the underside of her thighs so she wouldn't fall. Sakura sighed softly, moving her other hand around to hug his middle.

Sasuke shook his head in disbelief before carefully kneeling on the bed and laying her down. 'It's my own fault. I already knew she falls asleep easily when she gets this drunk.'

She mumbled his name unconsciously, "Sasu…ke….you…."

The man glared down at her, comically hissing despite knowing she couldn't hear it, "I'm not falling for this a third time. You're gonna fucking kill me."

#uchiha sasuke #sasusaku fic #sasusaku fanfiction #sasuke #sasusaku #sasuke uchiha #sakura uchiha #haruno sakura #sakura #naruto #naruto shippuden #narutofanfiction #narutofanfic #naruto fanfiction

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hiccanna-tidbits · 1 year

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Jackunzel February Special Week 2 - Summer The Painter and the Drifter

Railroad worker. Grocer’s assistant. Farmhand. Carriage driver.

All jobs Jackson Overland has tried--and failed to keep. Word around town is that he has a bit of a problem with authority. A bit of a tendency to goof off when he should be stocking shelves or helping shop visitors or whatever else.

Jack can’t help it, really. Life is too short not to grab onto every fun moment you can, even at the cost of a boss or two’s ire. Or three. Or maybe four.

He’s running out of options. Jack has been floating from town to town with no real plan, always on the hunt for the least onerous occupation. But moving isn’t cheap, and less and less people want to hire a young man with a reputation for tomfoolery.

It’s become a tiresome life. He’s been a nomad since his early teen years, and he finds himself wanting somewhere to belong. Something to do with his fleeting life besides try to survive with the bare minimum effort.

Then one summer, he takes a job as a gardener on a country estate. The Coronas are a powerful and influential family--local celebrities and benefactors for the nearby village. Earls or viscounts or something of the sort--Jack can’t keep track of gentry ranks. All frivolous rich person business that’s never really going to cross into his sphere.

Or so he thinks.

House Corona’s soon-to-be-debutante daughter is a bit of an oddball, by noble standards. She spends her summer...well, much more earthy activities than Jack would expect from a proper young lady. Sitting--sometimes even lying--in the front lawn’s long grass and painting. Musing through books that (from what he can glimpse of them) look much more dense and complicated than what Jack’s heard “proper ladies” can wrap their heads around. Wandering around in the woods and picking every interesting plant she laid eyes on--not just dainty wildflowers one could make an inoffensive and demure hobby out of collecting.

Plants and flowers alike often end up woven into her perfectly-brushed blonde hair, much to the chagrin of her nurses. Whenever Jack hears harsh tones and raised voices across the garden, it’s more than likely to be Rapunzel getting a lecture about grass stains on her gowns or dirt in her hair or what sort of ungodly things all this sun must be doing to her perfect complexion. And, of course, there’s the frequent concern of her intimidating potential suitors at her debutante ball by “spouting out all those books you devour faster than gentlemen know what to do with it.”

It’s a sunny morning in midsummer when Lady Rapunzel first speaks to him, decked out in a gold-embroidered white dress and without a single reservation to be seen.

Well...alone, at least. They’ve exchanged words while passing on the lawn, but never a long conversation. Then one day, he stands up after trimming the roses to find House Corona’s heir right behind him, holding out a plate of strawberry jam tarts.

Apparently he was so consumed with his work that he didn’t hear her creeping through the long grass. He yelps, nearly falling into the same pit of thorns he’s been straightening out all morning.

Rapunzel has quick reflexes for a noble. Keeping a one-hand hold on the plate, she reaches out and grabs his wrist just before he’s impaled with several dozen of nature’s best domestic spikes.

She’s...surprisingly unbothered by how filthy his arms are. Most of her family tries to not so much as brush against him as they pass by.

“Hi!” She beams at him. “Sorry, uh...didn’t mean to startle you. You’ve been working so hard all day, so I thought you might want a snack? I helped make them myself! Not really supposed to work in the kitchen, but um...well, it passes the time when it’s too hot out.”

She grows a little self-conscious, not meeting his eyes for a second. Jack only chuckles.

“Hey, it’s all right. They look delicious. But...” His face falls as he realizes something. “I don’t want to get you in trouble, miss. Are you supposed to give me--”

“Oh, well.” Her eyes glint mischievously. “In a family like mine, you make a few enemies. You never know who might poison your tarts when you’re not looking. Safer to test them on the garden boy, right?”

When Jack looks at her skeptically, she laughs and swats him--the second time she’s voluntarily touched his dirt-caked arm, he notes.

“Relax! I’m kidding. No one’s looking, anyways. And if someone catches me, I’ll take the fall.”

He wonders if that’s possible--a noble taking the fall for a servant. It seems unlikely to work.

Regardless, those tarts are looking pretty damn good--and much fancier than anything he’s eaten recently. And he’s starving.

Rapunzel watches with utter delight as he devours the strawberry jam tarts (perhaps a little quicker than was dignified). The pastries taste like ambrosia from the gods themselves. The kind of delicacy Jack has only ever dreamed about.

“You’re a really good chef,” he blurts out. Probably not very proper, comparing someone of her station to a mere food preparer.

Lady Rapunzel takes it in stride, giggling.

“And you’re a really good gardener!” she replies cheerily.

The lady bites her lip, looking uncertain again.

“Father says I spend too much time on it, but...I’ve been painting your garden! in between the obligatory etiquette lessons, anyhow. Do you want to see?”

Jack casts a glance back at the rosebush--his bitter foe since the sun oozed over the horizon that morning. He’d love an excuse to be done with it.

“Why not?”

***

Rapunzel, it turns out, is extraordinarily talented. She belongs in a castle, doing commissions for a king. Not learning stupid, arbitrary propriety rules and waiting around to be married off to some rich, land-owning asshole.

Her paintings pop with cheerful, free-flowing colors--flower thickets and sunlit brick walls and the very hedges he regularly shapes. Tall hollyhocks and lush lupine and honeysuckle vines creeping along walls and the thatched roofs of the village in the distance. Trees with full emerald canopies, dappled sunlight and shadows stretching out below them. Birds and squirrels and deer and foxes peeking out from hidden corners, fur and feathers splotched with leaves. Everything in Rapunzel’s paintings teems with life.

Their story is an unlikely one--the drifter and the painter, brought together by appreciation for even the simplest, most overlooked beauty of the world. Rapunzel takes to picnicking as the summer rolls by, preferring to eat in relative “privacy” from her family in order to sneak Jack any number of things from the kitchen. Cheese, crackers, freshly-cut charcuterie meat, tart jam, wild-picked fruit, baguettes and miniature quiches just out of the oven. Fine champagne a far cry from the craft beers Jack can snag at the village tavern. It’s the most lavish that Jack has eaten in...well, in as long as he can remember.

But the food isn’t the only part of Jack’s long workday he comes to look forward to. As they lie snacking on Rapunzel’s blankets, she shows Jack journals and guidebooks, all filled with beautiful, detailed drawings of every plant he can imagine and explorations of the world around them. Rapunzel’s grown quite adept at plant identification, studying and copying the guidebook drawings until she could yank any wildflower or weed from the grass and tell Jack what it was from leaf shape alone. He never imagined he’d be particularly concerned with plants and such, but...

With the way Rapunzel gushes about them, her eyes glowing brighter than every sunlit summer leaf put together, it’s hard not to be.

But they know this little pocket of bliss they’ve found together can’t last forever. Autumn is fast approaching, and with it Rapunzel’s debutante ball and an end to the estate’s need for someone to tend its garden.

Jack knows he should move along, just like always. Rapunzel will need to search for a real suitor, not...

Not some wide-eyed gardener with delusions of being worthy of a noblewoman’s love.

Eventually, Jack and Rapunzel will be forced to ask if their secret rendezvouses and growing affection for each other are worth the Corona family’s ire...and whether they may have to up-heave everything they’ve ever known to stay in each other’s lives.

Perhaps, they think, it would be worth it.

***

EYYYYYY this lil bit too much longer to write than I thought, but here it is!!! Because I am literally always down for Jackunzel inter-class angst <3 <3 <3 Princess and Servant AU My Much Beloved <3 <3 <3

VERY pleased with all the deep green in this, it’s...well, summery XD Green is one of my favorite colors in the world so I’m generally always down for more of it lol. But hey, I followed the prompt! Just doing my civic duty X3

I’ve highkey had that “blonde girl painting in a field/park” pic forever, and I was always kind of hoping to use it for some kind of period piece??? So I guess this was the end result of that urge. Idk how well the clothing fits in with the vague time period I selected, but...let’s hope it’s at least believable XD Sadly I have no definitive answer for the time period besides Ye Olden Days When Inter-Class Marriages and Romances Were More Taboo, whoops ^^;

Damn, now I...really want that picnic food and those jam tarts D: Alas, the downside of writing (and providing visuals) about your blorbos doing fun activities is then you would like to join in. Not to woo them, no--that is only for Jack and Punzel to do to each other--but instead to have to opportunity to eat quality food. Which is, of course, always my main priority.

I really gotta eat more jam and cheese and crackers, it really makes me feel like a fantasy protagonist or a Jane Austen character akjdhbpesuv

Pic credits available upon request!

#jackunzelfs23 #jackunzel #jack x rapunzel #rapunzel x jack #moodboard #aesthetic #jack frost #rapunzel #jackxrapunzel #rapunzelxjack #rotbtd #rise of the brave tangled dragons #the big four #regency au #tangled #rotg #rise of the guardians #crossover

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